


The Queen's Masquerade

by CharlotteAshmore



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark One Rumpel, F/M, Magic, More Fluff, Snarky Maid Belle, So much fluff it'll make you reach for the Pepto, True Love's Kiss, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Ball, a wee bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though Regina has found love again, and changed for the better, she is still full of mischief.  If Rumpelstiltskin can woo a lady into joining him at her Valentine’s Ball, Regina will share a spell with him to grant his fondest wish to find his son.  He didn’t count on True Love’s Kiss to be the catalyst to the spell, however.  Whatever choice he makes, it’s sure to not be what he was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flirting with the Dark One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Here we are again and yet I still don’t own a damn thing remotely relating to OUAT, its characters or venues. This is strictly for fun because I have no life and this is what I do.
> 
> A/N: Sweet, unexpected little plot bunnies just won’t leave me alone. With the anniversary of ‘Skin Deep’ and Valentine’s day, I thought this was would be appropriate to celebrate. Hope you all enjoy and thanks so much for reading!!!

          “Check.”

          Rumpelstiltskin shook himself inwardly as his gaze snapped away from her twinkling eyes and back to the chessboard between them.  “You’re cheating, dearie,” he drawled, his overlarge amber orbs narrowing as they lifted to meet hers once more.

          Belle arched a brow at him and sank deeper into the scattered cushions supporting her on the hearth rug.  “I would never, Rumpelstiltskin, as well you know,” she admonished.  She peeked at him from beneath her long lashes where he sat cross-legged and seemingly at ease across from her.  She wasn’t above a little flirting with her master, however.  There was just something so appealing about the flustered state he seemed to fall into when she softened her tone and held his gaze.  Hellfire!  She could send him into full-blown stammering befuddlement with a brush of her fingers.  Her tongue caught between her teeth in contemplation, as she wondered what he’d do if she tried to kiss him.

          She could hear her nursemaid scolding her in the back of her mind.  The woman would probably think her young charge wanton for wanting her master so desperately.  Well, she was neither naïve nor an innocent young miss fresh from the schoolroom.  Even when she’d been in the schoolroom, she’d been well-read and intelligent, and now she wanted to put her knowledge to practical use.  Her papa and former betrothed would be horrified to know she harbored such thoughts about her master, but Rumpelstiltskin appealed to her on _every_ level.  He was worldly and sophisticated, yet playful with a dark edge to his humor.  And though he tried to hide it, she knew he appreciated her wit and intelligence as much as she did his.  They were well matched.  If only she could get him to see it too.

          Belle suspected most of his standoffish nature stemmed from so many years of loneliness.  He’d forgotten what it was like to have a friend.  Then again, she didn’t know what his life had been like before becoming the Dark One.  If she could only get him to open up and let her in.  He thought himself unlovable and she would jump on the chance to show him otherwise.  No one could have been more surprised than she when she had found herself attracted to her master.  Coming to live with him in the Dark Castle, she’d feared he would be cruel and heartless – much like the stories she’d heard of him since her childhood – but she couldn’t have been more wrong.  Granted, he wasn’t one to be trifled with, as those who dealt with him would be the first to point out, but with her … she shivered.  With her there was potential for love and she wasn’t ready to give up on that for anything.

          The sorcerer scowled down at the board and quickly maneuvered his king away from her black queen.  “You’re trying to distract me,” he insisted as she leaned over the board to set her bishop into position, giving him a clear view of the valley between her breasts.  Tiny beads of perspiration popped out on his brow as he swallowed thickly.  His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, his skin prickling with sensations he hadn’t experienced in too many years to count before she’d come to live with him.

          Again, her eyes twinkled with humor as her lashes fluttered innocently.  “I am not cheating, master,” she returned, her tongue lingering over a title he’d never forced her to use.  “You just don’t want to admit to my skill at the game.”

          He snorted. Were her pupils just a bit wider than they’d been a moment ago, he mused.  His eyes narrowed on her, looking for other signs he was sure he was imagining.  “No, I have no doubt as to your skill, m’dear. It is the unmistakable charms at your disposal … and your use of them to win our wager,” he chuckled darkly, pointing one long finger in her direction.

          “Pfft,” she scoffed with a laugh.  “I do not have to cheat, nor use ‘my charms’ to beat you at chess, oh mighty Dark One.”

          “Cheeky wench,” he chided.  He frowned down at the board once more as he noticed she’d checked his king … again! Ugh!

          “Posturing poof,” she countered.

          Rumpelstiltskin gaped at her and moved his king to relative safety.  “What did you call me?!”

          Belle bit back a giggle at his outraged indignation, and tilted her head to the side, giving him a look at her slender neck which had his fingers fidgeting at his side.  She moved her queen and grinned at him triumphantly.  “Checkmate.”

          “The devil you say!”

          Indeed, his king was trapped between her queen and bishop with no clear passage to safety.  “’Fraid so, master.  Which means I’ve won a free day,” she chirped, clapping her hands with glee.

          “Bah!” he growled.  “Best two out of three?”

          Belle shook her head slowly.  “No.”

          “Why not?” he asked, disappointment evident in his voice as he banished the chessboard back to its place in the cupboard.  She was a challenging opponent, and if he liked to give her little gifts as incentives to play with him, all the better. He wasn’t above a bit of bribery.  “Are my wagers not to your liking?”

          “They are very much to my liking, master,” she purred, inching closer to him without trying to be obvious about it.  “But I _would_ like you to wager different things from time to time.”

          His heart slammed into his chest wall, battering against his ribs as her hip brushed his knee, and he could feel the heat radiating from her warm body.  His gaze dropped to her petal soft lips as his own parted infinitesimally.  “Like what?” he asked.  What was wrong with his voice?!  That breathy tone surely hadn’t come from him.

          A pretty pink blush rose in her cheeks as she averted her gaze, her fingers tracing the mottled skin on the back of his hand.  _Oh gods! She’s touching me. Why is she touching me?  I can’t fucking breathe!_ “I think tomorrow when we play, if I win …”

          “Yes?” he asked, trying to be casual and failing miserably.  He did _not_ need her to catch on to his little infatuation with her.

          “If I win, I want to be permitted to spend the day with you in your tower.”

          “Why?” he asked, snapping out of the haze of pleasure she’d woven around him.  He arched a brow.  “Trying to learn the monster’s secrets?”

          Her delicately formed little fingers rose to tease the hair which had fallen over his brow to shadow his features, and he stopped breathing, stunned once more by her touch.  He could swear his bones were melting.  Not a good look for the nefarious Dark One.

          “You’re no monster, Rumpelstiltskin.”  Her breath was sweet as it fanned over his lips, and he shivered, his body tightening with desire as he watched her through heavily lidded eyes.  “I simply want to see what you do.  You never allow me in your tower and I get lonely without you sometimes.  I enjoy your company.”

          Rumpelstiltskin whimpered slightly as her fingers carded into his hair, her all-knowing gaze seeming to look into his soul as he moved forward to close the distance between them.  He was lost, mesmerized by her sweet smile, her warmth, and her touch.  The rolled parchment bounced sharply off the end of his nose to land in Belle’s lap.  What in seven hells?! He jerked away from her, his hands fluttering nervously as he reached for it, wondering whether he should curse the interruption or be thankful for it.  He’d almost kissed her!  What game could she possibly be playing?  Yet when he looked up at her, he couldn’t mistake the disappointment in her eyes.

          He could taste the queen’s magic in the air as he focused his attention on the scroll.  “What is that?” Belle asked, her fingers fidgeting with a small stain on her apron.

          “I don’t know,” he replied, sliding the gaudy pink ribbon off and tossing it aside.  Pink?  “It’s a summons.  The queen wishes to see me.”

          His little maid’s shoulders slumped.  “Must you go now?”

          No, he was certain he could put her majesty off for a few days at least, but putting some distance between himself and Belle wasn’t exactly a bad idea.  “Yes, it would be best to see what she wants.  Her temper is amusing, but it is usually accompanied by the burning of villages and instilling fear in the populace.”

          Belle rolled her eyes.  “Yes, and we wouldn’t want that.”  She slowly climbed to her feet and smoothed her skirts.  “Master, if you wish … when you return … “ she stammered.  “Will you perhaps come to spin in the library?  I could read to you.”

          The Dark One leaned closer, peering into her wide eyes as he tried to discern her motives for wanting him in her private sanctuary.  Yes, he kept a spinning wheel there, but he hardly ever used it.  Or he hadn’t before she began inviting him once or twice a week to join her in the evenings.  Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself – much less to his worrisome little maid – he enjoyed those quiet evenings with her.  “Perhaps,” he finally answered, swallowing around the lump of emotion clogging his parched throat.  “If it’s not too late.”

          She smiled sweetly over her shoulder as she turned to leave the Great Hall.  “I’ll wait for you … master.”

          It took him a full five minutes to snap out of the – dare he say it? happy – daze Belle had left him in.  He couldn’t visit the queen like this!  He concentrated on his – as yet fruitless – quest to reunite with his son, and felt the darkness of his failure batter at his heart.  Now he was ready for whatever Regina had in store for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So did you like the first part? Reviews would be amazingly lovely. I will be posting a chapter probably every other day as I’m nearly done with this fic and don’t want to torture you all by drawing it out a week at a time :D Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Also, thank you so much for supporting my work in this year’s TEAs. You guys rock!


	2. The Invitation

          The Dark One apparated directly into Queen Regina’s informal sitting room – where he’d sensed her presence – and peered over her shoulder.  “I thought we’d already had a little talk about interrupting me, dearie.  Is it time again to have another?” he asked in a deceptively calm tone.  He was smugly satisfied by her shriek of fright and the dozens of fine pieces of parchment which flew from her hand and into the air.  They flitted down to land over the divan, refreshment table and floor at her feet in a colorful disarray.  The blonde woman, sitting beside her, merely arched a bored brow in his direction.

          “Rumpel!” Regina turned her wide eyes on the imp.  “I _do_ have servants who are paid to announce visitors.  You don’t have to sneak up on me.”  Her hand fluttered over her low décolletage as her heart rate returned to normal.

          “Where’s the fun in that?” he asked innocently.  He ignored her snort and paced around the back of the sofa, passing briefly by the petite blonde, his nose burning when he caught her scent.  He scowled at his former pupil.  “Consorting with fairies now, your majesty?  How progressive of you.”

          Regina reached out and rested a restraining hand on the fairy’s sleeve.  “Tink, do you think I might have a moment alone with Rumpelstiltskin?  Then we can get back to our preparations,”

          Tinkerbell eyed the Dark One warily.  “Are you sure, Regina?”

          The queen smiled and reassured her friend, holding her silence until she’d departed.  Smiling?  Smirking he could understand, but smiling? The queen did _not_ smile, especially at fairies.  He regarded her, a frown of utmost concentration upon his brow.  Had she been spelled? Cursed?  He was even more disturbed as she turned that truly genuine smile on him.

          “Thank you so much for coming, Rumpel.  I assure you it’s important or I wouldn’t have disturbed you.”  She patted the cushion beside her, beckoning him to sit beside her.  The fingers of his right hand twitched nervously, but he cautiously approached her and sat.  _Oh this is going to be weird; I just know it._

          He took in the white dressing gown she wore … a very frilly white dressing gown.  He flourished his hand in her direction.  “Not really your color, Regina.”

          She blushed, and his lips parted in astonishment.  He hadn’t realized she even knew how.  Something very odd was afoot, and his eyes darted around the room.  Tendrils of magic curled into the corners and between mortar and stone, searching for whatever hidden trap she was prepared to spring.  Instead she stared at him guilelessly and continued to smile as she retrieved her fallen papers and stacked them on the table.

          “There have been several changes in my life of late.”

          Rumpelstiltskin leaned closer to her resting a hand on either side of her face – palms open and facing himself – without touching her.  He inhaled sharply.  “White magic,” he growled in a clipped tone.  “And dare I say it … love?  Oh, dearie, what _have_ you been up to?”  He bounded to his feet, his lazy measured stride taking him to the hearth where he lifted one of her baubles, his long fingers toying with it to still their nervous trembling. 

          What the hell had she been up to?  He’d groomed her to be the perfect monster to cast his curse, and now it seemed as if she’d been transformed overnight.  Transformed back into the sweet, biddable girl she’d been when he’d first met her.  She’d been so heartbroken from the loss of her true love, desperate to be free of her mother’s iron thumb, and thirsty for freedom.  Now, however, there was a softness about her, the black heart of the queen replaced with the blinding white light of new love. Ack!

          “I met someone,” she practically gushed.

          He barely refrained from banging his head on the fireplace mantle.  “Did you now?”

          “Yes, and he’s wonderful and kind and –“

          “Eh te te tet! There’s no need to go into detail, dearie,” he cut her off.  “I take it your new best friend … the fairy?  She introduced you to your new love?  Bloody meddling mosquito,” he grumbled.  “And what of your revenge on your beloved stepdaughter?  It’s not as though you can complete your revenge without dark magic.”

          “I realized I was being foolish for blaming Snow.  It wasn’t her fault; she’s only a child.  The blame really belongs with my mother,” the queen said quietly, pain still heavy on her heart.

          The sorcerer gaped at her and then pinched the skin on the sensitive inside of his wrist.  Surely, he was embroiled in his worst nightmare.  “Where is Regina, and what have you done with her?  I don’t believe this!”  And what did this mean for the Dark Curse, for Baelfire?  A wave of nausea hit him as the darkness which resided in him clawed its way up his spine.

          She winced as she took note of his darkening features.  It wasn’t often he lost control of his temper, and even now he was fighting the beast.  “I’m still me,” she said softly.

          “Are you really so sure you want to break your deal with me, dearie?” he spat through clenched teeth.  “No one breaks a deal with me –“

          “I’m not breaking the deal, per se … just altering it a bit,” she hedged, another smile playing upon her lips.  “I can’t cast your curse, Rumpel.  It’s no longer an option if I’m going to fight for my happiness, but there is another way … a way to this land without magic you so desperately seek.”

          His eyes narrowed dangerously.  “How do you know –“

          It was her turn to cut him off.  “Tinkerbell.  She told me a great deal of Blue’s secrets.  One was the story of your son and why you wanted to … nevermind.  Tink’s been banished for helping me find my true love, and she wants to help you too.”

          “I beg your pardon.”

          “You heard me, Rumpel.  She doesn’t believe as the other fairies do.  She thinks everyone deserves a second chance.”

          Despite the surreal nature of the entire encounter, he couldn’t help but find himself intrigued.  “Yet, you’re the one presenting this _alteration_ to me.  What’s the catch?” he asked, sitting beside her on the divan once again.

          Regina sorted through her papers for a moment until she found what she was looking for, and handed him the lurid pink invitation.  He gaped at her dubiously.  “Don’t look at me like that, Rumpel.”

          “Well I wouldn’t if I wasn’t certain you’d lost your mind,” he snarked as he stared down at the invitation to Regina’s Valentine’s ball.  “The entire kingdom is going to think you’ve gone stark raving mad.  Are you going to streak through the ballroom at midnight without a stitch on by chance?”

          “Would you be serious!?”

          “I’m not the one handing out ugly fluffy _pink_ invitations to a – god’s bedamned – Valentine’s ball,” he argued.  He was still doubting her mental faculties.  “Methinks the fairy might have sprinkled you with too much dust.”

          Regina huffed in exasperation.  “Think whatever you want, Dark One, but this is a condition of giving you the spell to reunite you with your son.”

          He sobered instantly at the mention of his beloved child.  “I actually have to attend?”

          “Of course … and you have to bring a date.”

          “The Dark One does _not_ date, dearie!” he roared in outrage.  It was all a façade for her benefit.  He could think of one particular lady he wouldn’t mind having on his arm for the evening.  _Yeah, as if that would ever happen_ , he inwardly groaned.  He shot to his feet again to pace the length of fine Agrabahan carpet before her hearth, not wanting her to see his unruly thoughts written over his weathered features.

          “It will be fun.  No date, no deal.”

          “Regina!  You tempt my wrath.”

          She crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, insistent in her demands.  She was determined to have one last bit of fun before he was sure to leave the realm forever.  “Is there really no one who could accompany you?  This is a spell from Blue’s own vault, Rumpel.  This is for your son.”  A calculating smile curled her soft pink lips.  “What about your little maid?”

          His head snapped up in alarm, his spell clever fingers twitching with barely restrained magic.  “What do you know of her?”

          “I remember how desperate you were to get her back when Mal and her girls stole her away from you.  Our dear Maleficent was quite amused to see you so upset over the girl.”  She lifted one manicured hand to forestall his brewing tantrum.  “Does she care for you too?  Enough to accompany you?  Enough to want to see you reunite with your son?”

          “Fucking hell!” he growled under his breath.  Did his Belle care … at all?  It was something he desperately want to learn for himself.  He glared at Regina and the open empathy radiating from her ocher eyes.  If she were toying with him, he’d have no qualms about ending her.  “Fine.  I will think about this proposal of yours, but I’m not making any promises.”

          Regina shook her head as she watched the vivid purple mist envelop him and carry him away.  It was damned hard trying to be good, but she’d been given a second chance … a chance she refused to squander.  It was only right her mentor was given one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all so much for reading my newest fic :D I’m so thrilled with the response to the first chapter. I hope you liked this one just as much. Next chapter … Rum asks Belle to go with him to the ball. Stay tuned, my darlings.


	3. Will You Go with Me to the Ball?

 

          Rumpelstiltskin stared longingly across the grounds of his estate, his gaze sliding along the cold gray bricks to the window several stories above.  From his vantage point, hidden among the fruit trees in the orchard, he could easily make out Belle’s petite frame as she once again moved to peer out of the library’s window.  Her azure eyes flickered over the road past the great iron gates which barred entry to the Dark Castle, searching … for her master.  Or at least that was what he wished to convince himself.

          He leaned against the trunk of a peach tree and looked up at the heavy fruit-laden branches.  Snow surrounded him, deep drifts, some coming as high as his knees, yet his magic provided optimum yield from the trees.  It wouldn’t do for his little maid to be without the peaches she loved so much.  And oh the wonderful treats she could produce from her kitchen, he mused, his stomach growling at the mere thought.  She wasn’t supposed to bring him such comfort, nor joy or happiness.  Her purpose was to care for his estate, to clear the cobwebs and centuries of dust from his collection.  And yet …

          How had he ever lived without her?  He remembered not so long ago, standing at that same window where she was now, his sharp eyes trained on the road to the village, willing her to return to him.  He remembered the conscious decision to let her go, to grant her freedom and send her on her way.  He’d only felt the soul-shattering depths of despair so acutely one other time in his life, when he’d lost his son.  But she’d come back to him.  His sweet girl had returned – albeit acting a bit strangely – smiling in the most peculiar way, and leaving him to wonder time and again why she had come back.

          He just couldn’t understand how she could care for him in any way.  He was a monster, a beast, the spinner of the darkest deals, an evil predator … he’d heard them all over the centuries as darkness ate away at his soul, but Belle saw through the mask he wore, and battered against the walls he’d constructed to protect what was left of his heart.  He sighed as she moved away from the window, back into the bowels of the vast library he’d built for her.

          _And just what do you think to accomplish by standing out here in the snow, spying on the girl?_  came that dreaded inner voice of the demon.  It was right, however.  If Regina did have a spell to bring him to a land without magic without the need for his curse, he had to pursue it.  Belle would like that.  He didn’t think she would care for it much if he ripped the world apart to achieve his own goals.  He cursed that blasted fairy for destroying all his hard work and giving the queen another chance.  If Tinkerbell was so intent on saving Regina, why couldn’t she have come forward sooner with this mysterious spell of Blue’s? Before he’d spent so much time to create his monster. _Bah! Fucking fairies with their own agendas!_

          Standing in the ankle-deep snow drift wasn’t helping him think any more clearly than before, and with a flick of his wrist he transported himself to the library.  Though he blended well with the shadows, his little maid was able to sense his presence immediately.  Nothing ever seemed to escape her notice for long.  She placed a ribbon in her book to mark her place before she set it on the end table and pushed the knitted afghan off her lap.  She’d changed before coming up to her sanctuary, her fluffy fleece robe tied securely about her trim waist.  As she moved to stand, he was afforded a glance at her long slender legs, bare below the knee, and a glimpse of royal blue silk.  Was that one of his shirts?  His body tightened at the thought of her sweet curves enveloped in something he’d worn on his own body.

          Her lips curled into a knowing smile as her cerulean eyes searched out his hiding place.  “You might as well come out, master.  I know you’re there,” she purred, her dulcet tones washing over him like a silken caress.

          Rumpelstiltskin stepped forward into the light of the few lamps she’d lit.  It was quiet but for the crackling of the fire, and he was loath to break the peaceful solitude.  “I thought you’d have retired for the evening, dearie,” he said, adapting a more natural timbre to his voice rather than the high pitch of the Dark One.

          Belle tilted her head to the side, regarding him steadily as he slowly approached her.  “I believe I told you I’d wait for you.”

          Oh, he hadn’t forgotten.

          Her inquisitive gaze narrowed on him.  “You’re on edge, Rumpelstiltskin.  Did your meeting with the queen not go well?”

          She shivered and wrapped her arms about herself, rubbing her hands over the sleeves along her upper arms to warm herself.  He reached for the afghan and draped it over her shoulders.  “You’re cold.  You should be in bed where it’s warm,” he admonished, urging her to return to her seat upon the settee.

          “Stop evading.  If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll not push you.”

          He sat beside her, though not close enough to touch.  The temptation was too great to take what he wanted, the darkness beating against the edges of his consciousness.  He would not let it touch her with it’s evil, not her.  Instead, he reached into his coat and removed the invitation the queen had given him, holding it out to her.

          Belle took it from him, her eyes widening in surprise.  “A ball?  The queen is hosting a _Valentine’s_ day ball?”

          “Yes, I do believe that’s what it says on the invitation,” he drawled.

          “The queen?”

          “Yes, dearie.”

          “Is she ill? Bespelled, or otherwise taken leave of her senses?” she asked in all seriousness.

          He giggled, amused with her skepticism.  “Funnily enough, I had the same reaction.”

          Belle shook her head.  This just didn’t mesh with the cold malicious woman she’d met on more than one occasion since coming to live with Rumpelstiltskin.  She’d even tried to convince Belle to break her master’s curse.  Thankfully, Belle was smarter than that.  She’d never do anything to deliberately provoke his wrath, and breaking his curse when it seemed so important to him … gods! she didn’t even want to contemplate.  It needed to be a conscious decision on his part.

          “Are you going to go?” she asked for want of something to say when she realized she’d gone quiet and he was studying her profile with a worried frown.

          “The queen has something I need, and she refuses to give it to me unless I attend,” he admitted, his mouth twisting in disgust.

          “Oh … well I’m sure you’ll … er, have a good time, yes?”

          The mage arched a dubious brow.  “Really, dearie?  I think not.”

          “Do you really _need_ this thing Regina possesses?  Could you not acquire it by other means?  Or is it unique and rare?”

          His head dropped back against the settee as he closed his eyes wearily and sighed.  “She claims it is a spell which will open a portal to a land without magic.  Something for which I’ve been searching … for centuries, Belle.”

          The breath caught in her chest, her heart wrenching as he opened himself to her.  How long had she waited for him to trust her, to confide in her, to give of himself?  Her hand lifted of its own volition to brush the hair from his brow, her fingertips gently caressing the side of his face as he turned to look at her.  So much pain in his gaze, so much longing.

          “Why would you need such a thing?” she asked softly as he turned into her touch.

          “To find my son.”

          Her lips parted on a silent gasp.  “But you said –“

          “I said he was lost, Belle, not dead.”

          “I see.”

          “No, I don’t think you do.  I’ve never really explained it to you before.”

          She bit her lip to hold back a snarky retort.  It wouldn’t do to upset him now when he was being so generous with his heart.  “You could tell me now,” she murmured in a gentle tone.  “I would never betray your secrets, Rumpel.  Surely you must know that by now.”

          “I don’t know how to trust, Belle.”  He wanted to … so badly.  He wanted to just give himself over to her and never let go, to tell her everything.  Why did it have to be so hard?

          She nodded.  As if she didn’t know how difficult it was for him.  She studied him for a moment, realizing how still he was.  It was almost as if he were frozen, just waiting for her to reject him, or belittle him for his confession.  “Perhaps, one day, you’ll see how much I care for you, and it will be easier for you to share your past with me.  Forever is a long time.  I can wait for you, Rumpel.”

          He stiffened as her hand settled over his heart, her head coming to rest upon his shoulder.  When had she gotten so close?  How could she bear to touch him when others did their utmost best to run from him?  His heart constricted and unshed tears burned his throat.  What was she doing to him?  How could she – and only she – make him feel so vulnerable?  _Because you love her, idiot!_

          The voice returned to twist his feelings into knots.  _She’s playing you for a fool.  The girl will take your petty feelings and use them against you!!_   But wasn’t she worth the risk?  He didn’t have to bear the burden alone anymore.  All he had to do was trust.

          “Baelfire … my son.  He couldn’t … he didn’t like what’d I’d become,” he began, almost too quietly for her to hear, but he knew she had by the way she pressed closer into his side.  “I took the curse to save him.  He was only fourteen, Belle, when they came to take him off to fight the ogres.  I couldn’t let him go … not to die, not to be slaughtered in a senseless war.”

          “Did you know what the curse would do to you?”

          He shook his head and rested his cheek against her soft hair, feeling the tight fist of dread clutching his heart ease its grip.  “No.  I thought I could use my power for good.  Didn’t quite work out that way.  I was able to save my boy, but my need to protect him … it drove me to collect more power.  He couldn’t abide with what I became.  All he wanted was for me to be as I once was, and I promised if he could find a way to return me to my former state, I would do it.  Yet, when he succeeded, I couldn’t go through with it.  I couldn’t give up my power.  When that blasted portal opened to take us to a land without magic, I couldn’t let go, Belle.  I can still feel his hand slipping out of mine, see his face as he called me a coward.”

          Belle could feel his pain as if it were her own, tears slipping from her eyes to spill over her ashen cheeks.  “And you’ve been looking for him ever since.”

          He nodded, lifting his hand to brush away her tears.  “I’ve never stopped.  I have to find him.  I was so close.  I groomed Regina to cast my curse, for all the good it’s done me.  Don’t look at me like that, dearie,” he chided.  “Dark One, remember.”

          She bit back a grin at his admonishment.  “This curse would take you to a land without magic?”

          “It would rip apart the realms and bring us all there.”

          “Rumpel!  You can’t do that.  Think of the destruction.  You wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.”

          “Couldn’t I?  If it would give me back my boy?”

          “Point taken,” she conceded.  “But why would you need Regina to cast it.  As much power as you wield, couldn’t you cast it yourself?”

          “No,” was all he said, not wishing to elaborate.  She didn’t need to know what a cankerous sore the curse truly was.  “But it’s no longer an option.  Regina has found _love_ ,” he sneered, “and refuses to give up her second chance at happiness to curse the realms and give me what I want.”

          “Love?  The queen found love?” she asked incredulously.  “So what are we to do now?  How can I help?”

          Rumpelstiltskin’s brows shot up in surprise.  “You want to help … me?”

          “Of course I do,” she affirmed.  She looked down at the invitation in her lap.  “And all you have to do is attend the ball for her to give you this spell for the portal?  I wonder what it all entails … the spell, I mean.”

          “I don’t know.”

          “Well, we can worry about that later.  I’ll send her your RSVP in the morning.”

          He chuckled softly at her enthusiasm.  “Come with me ... to the ball.”  He winced.  Leave it to him to mess it up. He didn’t want her to think he was commanding her to go with him.  He wanted it to be her choice. “What I mean … Belle, would you go to the ball with me?”

          She blinked … several times, in fact … stunned.  “Y-You … like a date?”

          “No!” he interjected, only to curse himself inwardly.  This was not going well.  “Maybe,” he added when her face fell.  “If you want.”

          “I’d love to go to the ball with you, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said softly, a pretty pink blush settling in her cheeks.

          The fingers of his right hand rubbed against his thumb, hesitating only a moment before brushing a stray curl behind her ear.  His amber eyes softened, his voice even moreso.  “Alright, dearie, off to bed with you.  Tomorrow we’ll go to the village to visit the dressmaker.”

          Belle bit her lip and regarded him from beneath her lashes, pleasure coursing through her veins at his touch.  She leaned forward slowly, giving him time to retreat if he wished, and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a tender kiss.  She couldn’t forget what the queen had revealed to her about true love’s kiss, or what it might do to her sorcerer.  “Goodnight, master,” she cooed, rising to do as he’d bid.

          Rumpelstiltskin watched her go, his hand lifting to press where her lips had been a moment ago, his skin tingling.  “Goodnight, Belle.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was one of my favorite parts :D He’s got it bad, lol. In the next chapter, Rumpel takes Belle dress shopping. Thank you all so much for reading and leaving lovely comments. Your support means so much to me.


	4. Hellfire, Anything but Pink, Dearie

 

          “What do you think of this one?”

          Rumpelstiltskin’s head popped up in alarm, realizing just how close he’d been to nuzzling his little maid’s neck.  He should never have agreed to allow her to move from her seat across from him in the carriage.  Her close proximity was doing things to him which weren’t appropriate … at the moment. He barely refrained from banging his head on the window.  The things he had in mind would _never_ be appropriate, and it was time for him to stop deluding himself.

          He looked at the fashion plates she had scattered on the lap blanket spread over their legs, and made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.  Her thigh pressed so tightly to his, burning through the leather of his trousers was more than a little distracting.  “I don’t like the line of the skirt.”

          She looked at it a moment longer before discarding it for another.  “This one?”

          “The décolletage is all wrong.  I won’t have half the males of the kingdom ogling your bosom every time you curtsy,” he grumbled.

          Belle blushed prettily and cast him a coy smile.  “As long as they don’t touch, you shouldn’t mind if they admire what belongs to you,” she murmured softly.

          He growled low in his throat, shifting in discomfort.  Her softly uttered approval of his possession going straight to his groin.  To distract her from the tension building steadily between them, he picked up one of the plates with a neckline which would draw attention to her ivory shoulders rather than her breasts.  “I like this bodice.”

          She wrinkled her nose.  “My neck isn’t long enough for that bodice.  I’ll look frumpy,” she argued.

          “There is _nothing_ wrong with your neck, dearie,” he hissed passionately, searing her with the heat in his eyes.  He fit his hand around the ivory column of her throat, his thumb caressing the smooth line of her jaw.  “See how perfectly the width of my hand fits between your jaw and collarbone without forcing your chin up?”  She nodded, her breath fanning over his lips in a delightful huff as he pulled her in closer.  “It’s … beautiful.  Perfectly formed to lure in the man of your choosing, Belle.  Never think you’re less than you are.”

          “Is this the … um, bodice you’d really like?” she stammered as he released her and sat back against the seat.  She wondered if he was as affected as she by his intimate touch.  Knowing him, he’d probably poof out of the carriage if she tossed the carriage blanket aside and climbed onto his lap as was her want.

          He pinched the bridge of his nose and asked himself what the hell he thought to accomplish by playing with his little dearie.  “It will be lovely.  Now choose a skirt so we know what I will need to purchase from Mrs. Reddington.”

          “Beg pardon?”

          His gaze swung back to meet hers.  “Fabric, ribbons, lace … what I will need to make your dress.”

          Belle gaped at him as the carriage stopped in the square and he bounded down to help her alight.  His hands lingered at her waist a moment longer than necessary before he offered his arm.  She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and followed his lead.  “You’re making my gown?  I thought you would have it made … or more likely just …” she waved her hand about in a perfect imitation of one of his many flourishing gestures. “Conjure it.”

          “Not going to trust … shoddy stitches … inferior workmanship …” were just some of the things she was able to catch as he mumbled under his breath.

          She pulled him to a stop on the snow covered walkway, tilting her head to the side as she smiled tentatively.  “You sew as well as spin?  Then why do you make me repair the embroidery stitches on your cuffs when they fray?”

          “In another lifetime I did.  No reason why I can’t make your ball gown myself,” he admitted sheepishly.  “And I make you attend my clothes because it is your job, dearie,” he snarked with an imperious toss of his head.  To cover his awkwardness, he adjusted the collar of her cloak.  “Now let us go inside before you catch your death.”

          Belle refused to budge, however.  Instead she took a step closer to him and fiddled with the trailing ends of his lacy scarf.  “If I didn’t know better, master … I’d think you were attempting to court me.”

          The Dark One’s mouth fell open and the golden tint of his cheeks darkened.  “What?!  Um … I … “

          She turned on her heel and pushed open the door to the dressmaker’s establishment, calling over her shoulder, “Just so you know, I would more than welcome your suit.”

          Snow collected in his hair, and he garnered more than one curious stare before he finally snapped out of his disbelieving stupor to follow her inside.  Mrs. Reddington already had Belle well in hand, browsing through the various bolts of cloth at the back of the shop.  It gave him added time to bring his heart back under his own control.  He now knew what it felt like to be on the wrong end of crushing a heart.

          _Whatever could be wrong with that girl?  Is she addled?  Or perhaps she just has an affinity for beasts,_ the demon whispered in his ear.  He promptly ignored it.  Nothing was permitted to dispel the first stirrings of happiness in his chest.  His Belle wasn’t opposed to his attentions.  How delightful!  Now if he could manage a little wooing without fucking it up.

          Rumpelstiltskin paced through the rows of fabric, nothing seeming to catch his eye. 

          “Master!” she called loudly.  “What of this one?”

          He rounded the aisle and glowered at the bolt of pale pink satin in her arms.  “Not pink!”

          “But it’s lovely, don’t you think?” she asked hopefully.

          Ignoring the dressmaker who was glaring daggers at him as if daring him to disapprove, he shook his head.  “It’s ghastly, Belle.  And will probably be worn by every other simpering tart in the kingdom.”  He lifted the bolt from her arms and tossed it carelessly back on the shelf before steering her away.  “You are a rare diamond amidst the coal.  You deserve a gown which will enhance your beauty.”

          “I think she would look incredibly beautiful in pink,” the dressmaker remarked boldly. 

          Rumpelstiltskin turned to glare at her through narrowed eyes.  “I think you’d do well to mind your business, dearie,” he fairly snarled.

          “Master, she’s just trying to help,” Belle whispered.

          “She’s trying to sell gaudy pink fabric which no one else is willing to buy, is what she’s doing,” he returned.

          Mrs. Reddington made a ‘humphing’ sound and marched back to the front of the shop.  Belle pursed her lips in displeasure.  “Would it hurt you to be nice once in a while?”

          “Yes!” he snapped.  He moved off to inspect several bolts in various shades of blue, a triumphant giggle bursting forth from his thin lips as he found the perfect shade to match her eyes.  It was striped in two shades, cerulean and robin’s egg blue.  The first to match when she was in high dudgeon and the second to remind him of when she was happy.  “Oh, yes … this is perfect.”

          “It’s blue.  I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

          His face fell.  “You don’t like it?”

          “I love it … I just don’t think it’s appropriate for the queen’s ball, master,” she protested, hoping she hadn’t hurt his feelings.  He was trying so hard, and it had been so long since they’d gotten on so well.  She didn’t want to ruin the moment.

          “Please stop calling me that,” he demanded, drawing her up short.  “I released you from our deal long ago, Belle, and even when you were bound to me, I never insisted you call me that.”

          “I know, Rumpel,” she demurred, her lips curving into a seductive smile.  “But I like to watch your mouth soften when I use that title.”  Her smile widened as she watched his pupils blow wide.  She turned to peruse the fabric clutched tightly in his hands.  “Are you sure about this fabric?  We could always get the pink.”

          He nearly swallowed his tongue, thankful for her abrupt subject change.  “We’re getting the blue.  NO PINK!”

          The sorcerer dragged her through the aisles, choosing lace, ribbon and notions he’d need for her gown, needing to be quit of the place and once again back out into the frigid temperatures.  Anything to help him gain control over his traitorous libido.  Gods, she was going to be the death of him!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So apparently Rumpel has an aversion to pink :D And dear Belle is leading him on a merry chase. Did you like it? I’d love to know what you think. Next time we’ll see interruptions and an unwanted visitor. Thanks so much for reading!!


	5. Don't You Know How to Knock

 

 

          “Stop fidgeting!  You’re going to make me poke you with the pins, dearie,” he scolded gently as he knelt at her feet.  She was standing on a sturdy wooden platform he’d conjured – much like the one his spinning wheel sat upon in the Great Hall.  Now they just so happened to be in her library.  They’d been spending more and more time there in the past week.  She’d taken to reading aloud to him while he worked on her ball gown.  The ball was scheduled for the following weekend, and he had no time to lose.

          “I’m not, Rumpel.”

          “Youf are toof,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pins.  He nearly swallowed said pins when her fingers delved into the hair at his crown.  Instead he pricked his finger, cursing softly.  Removing the pins from between his lips, he glared up at her.  “That’s distracting, Belle.”

          Her nose wrinkled playfully as she looked down at him.  “Sorry.  You were looking a wee bit too pensive.  It’s not good when you put on your plotting face.”

          “Humph.  Now hold still.”  He went back to pinning and measuring her long skirts with practiced ease.  She was such a mystery, his Belle.  In the last week, he’d done everything he could to be kinder, gentler, to treat her like the lady she was.  He helped her prepare their meals in the evenings, and they’d eat … together … at the cozy little table in the kitchen next to the hearth.  He didn’t miss the behemoth in the dining room.  It was more for show anyway.  They took long walks in the garden, tea in the hall, and played chess every night.  She watched him make a pattern for her ball gown – after he’d taken a dozen measurements - cut it out and begin to pin it.  And she’d gotten her wish, spending all the time with him which she craved while he began to sew.

          Slowly, he began to open up to her, sharing his long life with her.  She was a captive audience, even going so far as to take notes for a journal she wished to keep.  For Baelfire, she claimed.  His son needed to know some of the things his father had done over three centuries of searching, after all.  He was content, if not happy.  He had this blossoming relationship with Belle, and he was confident he was one step closer to reuniting with his son.  Only one thing left him troubled in the wee hours of the morning when his beloved slept and he was left to his own devices.  She refused to allow him to kiss her.

          Was she just wanting to take things slow, or could she just not bring herself to get that close to the beast?  No, he was being silly.  She didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek or the corner of his mouth before she retired in the evening.  Even times when he’d shared something particularly amusing or sad, she’d show her affection with a kiss.  But it was her lips on his which he craved so desperately.  He wanted to feel those petal soft lips brushing over his, delight in tracing them with his tongue before delving inside to taste her.  He longed to feel her tongue wrap about his own, to duel for dominance, to flick sensually over the sensitive roof of his mouth.  He _needed_ to kiss her before he went mad.

          His body tightened with desire, and he shifted to relieve the pressure in his groin.  Unfortunately, he overbalanced and fell back onto his arse.  He cursed as the pins fell from his lips, one jabbing him sharply in his upper thigh.  Another inch …

          “Oh, Rum!” she shrieked, lifting the heavy skirt to step down from her pedestal.

          “Don’t move!” he roared, regretting his tone when she looked taken aback.  “I’m sorry.  I’m almost done, dearie, and I don’t want you dislodging too many of the pins with excessive movement.”

          “Are you alright?” she asked, trying to remain as still as possible.  Her hands fisted at her sides as he regained his previous position on his knees, and she had to fight to keep from reaching for him.

          “Fine, fine,” he grumbled.  “This should be the last time I have to adjust the hem.  Then I just have to add the lace.”  The lace she’d ripped off yesterday when she’d tripped over the too long hem.  If he hadn’t been so worried about some dandy getting a glimpse of her perfect ankles.  He ignored his wayward thoughts and concentrated on his task, his knees creaking as he pushed himself up from the floor to stand before her.  When complete the hem should lay just above the tops of her strappy heels and she’d be able to have no trouble keeping her footing.

          “All done?” she asked, and he couldn’t help but notice the note of hope in her voice.  He felt a tad guilty keeping her up there so long, knowing how difficult it was for her to be so still without a book in her hand.  And considering it was nearly time for luncheon, she was probably hungry too.  Way to go with the wooing, he groaned inwardly.

          “I believe so.”

          “Are you sure you don’t need more measurements with my corset on?” she asked.  She hated to wear it when she was working in the castle – anytime for that matter – because it constricted her movements, but she refused to go to the ball without it.

          Rumpelstiltskin could feel the heat rise up his neck.  He felt slightly uncomfortable talking about women’s undergarments with his little dearie, as it conjured thoughts of taking them off of her and … did he really want to go there and possibly show her what a beast he could really be?  The frozen lake at the back of the estate was looking more and more appealing by the moment.

          “N-No,” he said, taking a moment to clear his throat.  “No, that won’t be necessary.  The laces in back should adjust quite well without the need for more measurements.  Are you hungry?” he asked, changing the subject.  “I can fix something for us after you change … if you like?”

          Belle smiled sweetly as he stepped behind her to unfasten the stays of the dress and peel the fitted sleeves down her arms, taking extra care not to dislodge the pins.  He averted his gaze when she was left standing there in her shift, stockings and heels, not wanting her to think he was ogling her.  He quickly draped the gown over the dressmaker’s dummy once more before moving to help her down from the platform.

          The sorcerer’s fingers lingered at her waist as she stepped down, the feel of her soft curves exquisite beneath his light touch.  “I think that would be lovely, Rumpel,” she murmured, closing the distance between them.  He sucked in a sharp breath as her arms wound about his neck and her breasts pressed into his chest.

          Was this it?  Would she let him kiss her this time?  His hands fisted against the small of her back, afraid to move them and explore her supple curves as his instincts drove him to do.  This thing between them was too new, and he didn’t want to frighten her … _never_ wanted to frighten _her_.  Yet her own hands were far from still as they brushed over the line of his shoulders and up to his nape, kneading gently against the knots which had formed there as he’d bent over his work.  His eyes slammed closed as her right hand slid up into his hair, her nails lightly scraping over his scalp.  His entire body sang with need, a live wire in her precious hands.

          His brow dropped to rest against hers, unable to hold his head up a moment longer, her innocent ministrations too much for his touch-starved body.  “Belle …” he whispered, not even sure she’d heard as his arms tightened about her, pulling her flush against him.  She had to feel his arousal pressed to her belly, the evidence of his desire for her.

          “Shh … just let me hold you for a moment,” she breathed against his lips.  “It feels so good to be in your arms after waiting for so long … master.”

          Her sweet breath against his face, knowing he shared the same air with her, made his head swim, and he nearly dropped her at her admission.  Yet she held on, refusing to allow any space between them.  There was that niggling voice in the back of his mind asking the questions which plagued him: why does she want me? How could she bear for me to touch her? Along with the things he knew without doubt: I don’t deserve her, I’m not good enough, not worthy, undeserving.  Her lips trailing over his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth … the heat and softness of her lips forced such thoughts to the back of his mind to be locked away along with the demon.  Now it was just him and his sweet girl, his beloved Belle, and he couldn’t bear it a moment longer.  He had to kiss her, to claim her lips, to taste the honeyed recesses of her exquisite mouth.

          And he missed, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth, her head turning at the last moment.  She’d done it … again, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to live with her rejection again.  He pulled her arms from around his shoulders, and held her hands clasped within his own against his chest as he looked down at her.  He didn’t miss the fiery color in her cheeks.

          “Why?” he asked simply, his voice no more than a whisper as he fought to steady the frantic rhythm of his heart.  “Why won’t you let me kiss you?”

          Belle frowned, a little crease appearing between her delicately arched brows.  “I do let you kiss me, Rum.”

          Rumpelstiltskin lifted a finger to trace over her lips.  “Never here,” he explained, banishing her confusion.  “Why do you deny me your lips when you’ve made it quite clear you enjoy my attentions?”

          “Because – “

          A loud pounding on the entry doors two floors below broke the pleasant haze enveloping them.  “Maybe they’ll go away,” he mumbled under his breath.  No, the pounding was replaced by the sound of the door swinging open and banging against the wall.  That was followed by thundering boots on the marble stairs leading upwards.  “Damn!”

          “I thought the wards would keep intruders out,” Belle fussed, no happier than he about the intrusion.

          “The wards keep out anyone who would wish to do us harm, steal from us or have less than kind intentions,” he answered distractedly.

          “Anyone you know with less than admirable timing?”

          “I can think of a few,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

          Belle bit down on her lip to stifle an angry retort.  “I was hoping to finish our conversation.”

          Rumpelstiltskin hurried to fetch her robe from the settee and had barely draped it over her ivory shoulders when the door burst open … only to snap back into the intruder’s face with a spark of magic.  “See even the castle knows how to deal with the likes of him,” he giggled, recognizing the groans out in the corridor.  “And don’t you worry, dearie, we’ll be revisiting this conversation again … later.”

          Charming pushed open the door again, this time rather cautiously poking his head in.  “This a bad time?”

          The Dark One sighed, and beckoned the prince inside.  “What can I do for you today, shepherd?  Another potion?  A magical bauble?  Has your princess gotten herself into a spot of trouble?”  He noticed the princeling’s gaze riveted on Belle and snarled, “Stop staring at Belle!”

          “I beg your pardon, milady.  I meant no offense,” David quickly apologized.  He’d been to the Dark Castle many times, but had yet to ever encounter the imp with a girl in such a state of undress.

          Belle inclined her head in a regal nod to accept his apology, but it was Rumpelstiltskin she spoke to.  “Shall I bring tea for you and your guest?  And I think we have some of that roasted lamb from dinner last night.  I can prepare a light repast.”

          The mage’s eyes softened as he met her gaze.  “I doubt Charming will be here that long, but you may bring refreshments for you and I.  I’ve still quite a bit to do on your dress this afternoon.”

          She beamed at him and raised on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.  “As you wish … master.”

          He shivered as he watched her go.  Only then did he acknowledge his guest.  “Well?”

          David snapped to attention, trying to clear it of the girl _kissing_ the Dark One.  He didn’t remark on it as the girl passed him.  Somehow he didn’t think accusing the imp of ravishment was in his best interests.  “Um … here,” he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his doublet for a rolled parchment.  “Regina wanted you to have this.”

          Rumpelstiltskin eyed the scroll warily, sending out feelers for any of Regina’s darker magics before snatching it from the prince.  It mattered little, the show the queen had put on for him.  He couldn’t find it within himself to trust her.  He knew her too well.

          “Tell me, shepherd … how are things regarding Snow and the queen.  Do you really think she’s changed?” he asked, watching David for any sign of duplicity.

          Charming sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck.  “I don’t know, really,” he shrugged.  “Snow is over the moon about Regina’s change of heart.  She feels this is a second chance for her to get to know her stepmother and form a lasting relationship with her.”

          “But?”

          “Regina has done so much evil,” David said with a shudder.  “How am I supposed to just let that go and move forward.  For all outward appearances, she seems to be genuine in her wish to change.  I just don’t know that I’ll ever trust her.”

          Rumpelstiltskin noticed the prince still feared him as well, his hand never far from his sword.  “And this new love of hers? What are your thoughts on him?”

          “Robin?  He’s a decent fellow.  He’d make a good soldier, but he’s content with the tavern he runs on the outskirts of Sherwood.”

          The Dark One’s eyes narrowed.  “What does _Snow White_ think of him?”

          David smirked, seeing where the imp was going with his line of questioning.  He too thought Snow was a rather good judge of character.  “She likes him.  She thinks he’s good for Regina, and she knows they can be happy together.”

          “Doesn’t this all seem a bit strange to you, dearie?” he snarled, pacing anxiously around the man.  “Why would a fairy try to find love for the _Evil_ Queen?  Rather convenient, eh?”

          “Tinkerbell said she just wanted to help.  She _was_ banished because of it.”

          Rumpelstiltskin’s lip curled up in a smirk.  “Well, shepherd, let’s just hope it’s not some elaborate ruse to come back and bite us all in the arse.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I swear I think Rumpel would expect the roof to cave in on him if someone or something wasn’t interrupting him. David’s lucky he didn’t get turned into smth nice a squishable :D Next time … Belle tells Rumpel a secret, and he doesn’t take it at all well. I really appreciate all the love and support y’all have sent for this story! Thank you all so much.


	6. A Secret Shared

 

 

          The first thing Belle noticed when she returned to the library, was the prince’s absence.  She was rather glad he’d left after concluding his business with Rumpelstiltskin.  An anxious knot of trepidation had been coiled in her belly for the better part of a week.  As much as she enjoyed her time with her master, she couldn’t quell her fear that the truth would ultimately destroy them.  How much longer would she be able to put off his desire to kiss her?  She wanted it too … probably moreso since she’d been in touch with her feelings for him far longer than he had.  She was sure of it.  Perhaps.  _Hellfire!_   She really didn’t know, though she suspected he’d come to realize he truly cared the day he’d given her the rose and sent her to town for straw.

          That was the day she’d met Regina and realized she was in love with her master.  Months ago.  Months of longing and hopeful imaginings.  She was tired of relying on her fantasies.  She wanted him in every way imaginable, and finally when it was possible to find happiness with him, there was a huge honking secret between them.  Oh, how she wanted to give in and kiss him senseless.  She’d have to tell him before something happened which they’d both regret, and if she knew her master … his temper would be absolutely glorious.

          Belle sighed and set the tray down.  She’d made them a nice luncheon consisting of tea, pieces of cold roasted lamb, a loaf of the bread she’d baked that morning and three different types of cheese.  “Rumpel?” she called, wondering if he’d disappeared among the stacks in search of something for her to read while he worked on her gown.  It was entirely too quiet.  “Rum?”

          The sorcerer didn’t keep her waiting for long, his magic swirling about him as he apparated onto the settee next to her.  “Sorry, dearie,” he apologized.  “I needed to go up to the tower for a moment.”

          She busied herself pouring tea into his chipped cup.  “I see your guest departed.  Was your business successful?” she asked, frowning at the scroll he held out to her.  “What’s this?” It really wasn’t like him to want to share his deals with her.

          Rumpelstiltskin shrugged casually, though he was a bundle of raw nerves.  “Regina sent Charming with a list of ingredients I’ll need for the spell.  Well, part of a list,” he said, scowling darkly.  “The wench is toying with me.”

          Belle perused the list.  “Do you have all this in your stores?”

          “No.  That’s why she sent it ahead of time.  These are ingredients I will have to procure.”  He leaned back against the cushions, and rubbed his weary eyes before taking a tentative sip of his tea.  “She knows I’ll not want to waste a moment when I have the complete spell.”

          “How does she know you don’t have these?”

          He accepted the fine china plate with his lunch and nibbled a piece of cheese.  “She was my apprentice, Belle.  She spent quite a bit of time up there with me, and it’s not surprising she remembers what I keep on hand.”

          Belle tore her bread into tiny pieces, her gaze focused on her plate.  “I don’t trust that woman, Rumpel,” she murmured.  She set her plate aside, her food barely touched as her stomach churned with nerves.

          “Even though it seems she’s changed for the better?” he asked, setting his own plate aside, and tipping her chin up with a carefully placed finger.

          “Can someone like her really change?”

          “You believed I could change, Belle,” he whispered softly.

          “You _have_ changed, Rumpel.  Very much so since I’ve come to live with you.  I know firsthand what Queen Regina is capable of.”  She tugged his hand away from her face, twining her fingers with his and holding them in her lap.  Yet, she averted her gaze, not wanting him to see or discern the myriad emotions evident there.

          His own eyes narrowed sharply.  It wasn’t often his Belle wouldn’t meet him head-on.  Not his brave little princess.  “Why do I feel this has nothing to do with Charming’s visit and everything to do with what we were discussing earlier?  Belle,” he said firmly when she still wouldn’t look up at him.

          “Because it does.”

          “What do you mean, dearie?” he asked, his heart beginning to pound.  Already he could feel the darkness growing with his suspicions.

          “I don’t want to tell you.  Things tend to explode when you’re upset.”

          “I’m not upset!” he snapped impatiently.

          “You’re getting there,” she insisted.

          “But I’m not upset with _you_ ,” he said, trying to calm himself before he ruined her library.  He slumped against the back of the settee and clasped his hands together on his lap.  “See, I’m not upset.”

          Belle winced as his eyes flashed hotly in her direction.  “Do you remember when you sent me away, thinking I wouldn’t return?  The day you freed me from our deal?”

          How could he forget the desolation he’d experienced as he’d watched her walk through the gates, the outright despair at the thought of never seeing her again?  He gave her a curt nod, his lips compressed into a thin line.  He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid his voice would betray him.

          “I had a lot of time to think as I walked.  If I’d had any sense that day, I would have hidden in the forest when her carriage approached.”

          “W-What – “ He cleared his throat.  “What happened?  What did she do to you?  A spell?  Is that why you came back?” he roared, bounding to his feet as his face twisted with rage.

          She shook her head, her bottom lip disappearing between her pearly teeth.  “No!  Rum, please.”  He paced, refusing to look at her.  “She presented herself as a kindly noblewoman.  Who was I to suspect any differently.  She offered to walk with me for a while, even when I didn’t welcome her company.  I was distraught, torn between wanting to go home to papa and returning to you.”

          “And I’m sure she took advantage of your distress!” he hissed furiously.

          “She saw right through me, Rumpel.  She knew, somehow, that I didn’t want to leave you, that I cared about you.  She told me of true love’s kiss and how it would break any curse.”

          Rumpelstiltskin stopped pacing, his body trembling with the effort to keep the Dark One reigned in.  As furious as he was, he didn’t want to risk letting the demon hurt her.  He very nearly lost control when she rose to stand before him, her small hands coming to rest on his chest.  He couldn’t bear her touch just then, and he recoiled, stumbling away from her.

          “You came back to break my curse?!  You never cared for me.  Gods, I’m such a fool,” he hissed.  “All this time, you’ve been playing me for a fool in the hopes I’d what … fall in love with you?”

          “No!” she cried, tears streaming over her ashen cheeks.  She shook her head vehemently, a sob wrenching from her throat as he pushed her away when she reached for him.  “No.  I would never betray you, Rumpel.  Haven’t I more than proven that to you?”

          He stared down at her coldly, his eyes nearly black, unable to speak through his blind fury.  It was a wonder he didn’t curse her into oblivion.

          “Don’t you see, Rumpelstiltskin?  I wasn’t rejecting you.”  His eyes closed as she bravely reached up and laid her hand alongside his weathered cheek.  Even now he sought her touch, craved it.  “I couldn’t take something from you which you weren’t willing to give.  It had to be your choice.”

          The Dark One pulled away from her and stormed towards the door, not even having the presence of mind to use his magic to flee his traitorous love.  And yes he _did_ love her – even now – which made it that much more painful to bear.

          Belle ran after him, her stride not enough to keep up with him.  “Rumpel, where are you going?  Rumpel, wait!”  But he was gone.  Still, “Please …”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry I’m late with posting this today. I’ve got the fkn flu and I’m so miserable it’s not even funny. I’m really glad I had this part written ahead of time :D I hope y’all are still enjoying the story. Next time, Rum goes to confront Regina.


	7. Temper, Temper, Dearie!

 

          The foundation of the Winter Palace shook violently, dust filtering down from the rafters in the salon where Regina sat having tea with her friends.  The queen nearly lost her seat, and Snow shrieked in alarm, looking around for her fiancé.  Then she remembered the errand Regina had sent him on.  He wouldn’t be back for several more hours. 

          Robin leapt to his feet, his hand upon his bow.  “Earthquake?  I didn’t think this region were prone to such phenomena.”

          Tinkerbell dabbed at the tea stain on her skirt as she set her cup down and drew the wand from her sleeve.  Thankfully, Blue hadn’t taken it from her when she’d banished her.  “No, I sense Dark Magic,” she said, narrowing her eyes, searching out the corners of the room for hidden danger.

          Regina cringed as she rose unsteadily to her feet.  The castle shook again and her lover reached out to pull her behind him, to shield her against the coming attack.  She smiled with amusement.  Did he not remember who she’d been?  “Robin, it’s fine.”

          “It is _not_ bloody well fine!” he insisted, urging Snow to join Regina as he nocked an arrow.

          “Darling, that isn’t going to do any good against the Dark One,” she tried to tell him.  “Robin?  Robin!”

          “He won’t be able to help you, dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin hissed in her ear, his long spell clever fingers slipping about her pale throat as he pulled her away from her lover.  “And neither will all that white magic coursing through you.  Tell me, your majesty … do you miss the darkness?  Has it truly left you, or is it a struggle to keep it from devouring you?”

          Regina yelped in pain as he tossed her away from him and she landed rather abruptly on the hearth rug.  She glanced at her friends, frozen in a red haze of magic.  It would almost have been comical had she not been facing an angry Dark One.  “Of course it’s a struggle!  How could it not be after living with it for so long,” she hissed, rising to her feet to face him.  “But I am not going to give in and ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for recently.  It’s difficult to be good when the darkness is just so … easy.”

          His fingers twitched at his side as he rounded the coffee table and advanced on her.  “What did you do to Belle?” he snarled, his eyes flashing furiously.

          “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything to your little maid, Rumpelstiltskin,” she protested, backing away from him.

          The Dark One vanished, reappearing behind her, his hand once more closing about her throat.  He wouldn’t allow her to escape so easily.  Her magic was no match for his, especially this white magic she was clinging to.  “Six months ago, I freed her from our deal.  I sent her away, _yet_ –“ he trilled, “she returned to me of her own free will.  Or did she?”

          Regina stiffened.  The girl must have finally caved and told him of that day on the road.  “Is that what this is about?” she asked, turning her head just enough to be able to meet his gaze.  Rarely had she ever seen him show such a loss of control over his emotions.  “I simply offered the girl some advice, nothing more.  I didn’t harm her, and I didn’t use any magic to influence her.”

          He turned her about and pressed his face close to hers, looking for evidence of her deceit.  “You’re lying!”

          “Why would I?  I have nothing to gain, Rumpel.”  She struggled against his grip.  It wasn’t so tight she couldn’t breathe, but it was far from comfortable.  “I always wondered, though … _did_ she try to kiss you?”

          He flung her away from her, unable to bear touching her a moment longer.  She reeked of fairies and it befuddled his senses.  “That’s none of your damn business.”

          “Hmm, she really seemed like the hero type.  I thought surely she’d run home and try to break your curse.”  She watched the emotions flit across his face as he paced.  “So, judging from your reaction, she either tried to kiss you and it didn’t work, or she’s been protecting you.  Which is it?”

          _I couldn’t take something from you which you weren’t willing to give.  It had to be your choice._   Belle’s declaration flitted through his mind and he felt some of the darkness recede.  Had she truly been trying to protect him?  He was still reluctant to answer the queen.  “Why did you do it?”

          Regina rose and went to the sideboard to pour him a glass of finely aged whiskey, relieved he seemed to be coming down off his rage-induced high.  He took it from her gratefully.  “I was trying to destroy you, of course,” she replied, not afraid to be honest with him.  She wasn’t that person anymore.  The least she could do was offer him honesty.

          Rumpelstiltskin snorted and tossed back his drink, reveling in the burn of the alcohol.  “As if you could.”

          “Rumpel, I was filled with hate and a drive to make everyone as miserable as I was.  Whether or not you believe it, you tempered my magic.  I knew if I ever went too far, you would be there to stop me,” she explained.  “There were certain lines you wouldn’t allow me to cross, and looking back … I’m glad.”

          “Rubbish!  I just couldn’t allow you to run amok before you’d cast my curse,” he sneered.

          “No, I think it’s because buried deep down is the man you were before you became the Dark One.  I think you’re afraid to lose him, because if you do, even if you find your son, he won’t welcome you back into his life.”

          “You know nothing,” he hissed, smashing the tumbler against the hearth in his fury.  Fucking blabbermouth fairy, he cursed.  No one had a right to know his secrets.  “You don’t get to talk to me about him, Regina!”

          “And Belle … she sees him too, the man you were before ...  She sees _you_ , doesn’t she?”

          He clenched his teeth in vexation, truly seeing how much she’d changed from the witch she’d been.  God’s teeth, she was right.  Belle had always been able to see right through him.  Even from the very beginning she’d been able to claw her way past the mask to see the pathetic spinner he’d been before his curse.  And yet she still wanted him.  She’d risked their blossoming relationship to tell him the truth and he’d fled, ran out on her, and left her in tears because of his fear and anger.

          “How badly did you mess up, Rumpel?”

          “What are you talking about?” he asked, shooting her another glare.

          She chuckled.  “Knowing your temper as well as I do, I’m assuming you unleashed it on her and left the poor girl in tears.  Am I right?”

          He growled low in his throat, refusing to answer.

          “Of course I am.  Go home, Rumpel.  Talk to her.  If she loves you … she’ll forgive you.”

          The crystal vase on the table beside her exploded, showering the carpet with tiny shards.  It didn’t deter her, however.

          “If she loves you, she’ll understand.  She’s worth at least a conversation, isn’t she?  I have a feeling you love her enough not to want to let her go.  Fight for your happiness, Rumpelstiltskin.”  She watched him stalk towards the door, her mentor having had enough of her advice.  “I’ll see you Saturday, Rumpel.  You _and_ Belle.”

          Robin lowered his bow as he was released from the Dark One’s magic.  “What happened?”

          Regina shook her head as he tossed the weapon aside and enveloped her in his embrace.  “Nothing.  Rumpelstiltskin merely needed to blow off some steam.”

          Snow turned to beat a hasty retreat, needing a moment to shake off the Dark One’s lingering magic.  “I’ll fetch someone to clean up this mess,” she said, hurrying from the room.

          Tinkerbell shook her head.  “Well, I’d hate to see what would’ve happened had he _really_ been angry.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: IMO it was better for him to confront Regina about her hand in it, than toss Belle out on her butt. He should be feeling some heavy duty remorse about now. Next time, Rum goes home to apologize :D


	8. It's Alright to Be Afraid

 

          Belle burrowed beneath the heavy down duvet on her bed, and tried to concentrate on the adventure novel she’d found buried at the back of the library on one of its uppermost shelves.  Attempting to read a romance was fairly impossible and she couldn’t bear a suspense novel since those were her master’s favorites.  They dredged up too many memories of him.  She’d retreated to her room, remaining there unless she absolutely needed something – mostly tea – and it had been so for three days.  After their argument, when she’d laid herself bare and confided in him, she’d wept until she was sure there were no tears left.  How wrong she’d been.  The next morning, hoping she’d find him in the library, her resolve had been strong to soothe his ire and work through their problems.  It hadn’t lasted long when she’d come face to face with her completed ball gown.

          If the seamstresses in her kingdom possessed even an inkling of his talent, she’d mused as tears had gathered behind her lashes.  Every stitch was perfection.  From the long full-length sleeves and jeweled off the shoulder neckline to the fitted waist and split skirt with the white lace underskirt, it was the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen. He’d been right.  The two-toned striped silk would complement her eyes.  It was a gown she’d be proud to wear to the queen’s ball.  Only now she wasn’t even certain he still wanted her to accompany him.  She’d fled the library, unable to remain there a moment longer.  There were too many memories of their shared time together.  She’d needed the solace of her room where she could wallow in her pain without any interruptions.

          It wasn’t until later, when she’d ventured to the kitchen for tea, that she’d found a hastily scribbled note.  He’d simply said he’d be gone for several days to locate the last of the ingredients he’d need for the spell.  She’d known he was using the spell as an excuse to avoid her.  He was rather good at that when he wished.  With so much magic at his disposal, it was quite easy to hide from her.  And all the while, she was left to wonder if things would ever be the same between them again.

          Her vision blurred on the page, her heart clenching with pain.  She didn’t know if she could go back to how things were before he’d begun to pursue her affections.  She was still quite surprised he’d finally given into his feelings to do so at all.  But what if he truly believed she’d meant to betray him?  Would he try to send her away … again?  If he did, she didn’t think she’d be able to bear it.  He was her home, her love.  She belonged with him.

          Before she’d known him, every decision regarding her life had been made for her … from her education and what she was allowed to study, to who she would marry.  Rumpelstiltskin was her choice.  She’d never regretted leaving her privileged, pampered life behind to go with the Dark One.  Despite his argumentative nature when she’d first become his caretaker, he still made her feel as if her opinions mattered.  She flourished under his watchful eye, and she couldn’t … wouldn’t … imagine what her life would be like without his friendship, his love.  She was confident he loved her. It was why he was running scared.  It didn’t hurt any less, however.

          Belle hated feeling so bereft, so unsure of her future.  But how could she reclaim her fate as her own if he wouldn’t come home?

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin laid the leather bag containing his precious ingredients atop his worktable, having magicked himself directly to his tower to avoid having a run in with his little maid before he could clean himself up.  He still reeked of seaweed and sulfur.  The mother dragon hadn’t been at all pleased to find him in her lair, despite his intentions to only take some of the eggshell from her new hatchlings and leave her young alone.  He was sure his hair was still smoking, not to mention the sad singed state of his pants.  The mermaid he’d had to deal with next hadn’t been much more amiable.  He could have obtained the two rare blue pearls from the shores of Neverland himself, but why risk a confrontation with his loathsome father?  Sending Adina after them should have been the better choice.

          His fingers rose to caress the sides of his neck, just below his ear.  He could still feel the gills, though the spell to enable him to breathe underwater had worn off some time ago.  Silly fish, making him accompany her.  Mermaids could travel across realms, just as the hatter could with the use of his hat.  He now wished he’d have just sent Jefferson to do his bidding instead of having to give up one of his treasures – a rare golden harp - to the flighty fish. 

          He set one of the pearls aside and caressed the other between his fingertips.  He’d only needed one for the spell.  The other would adorn his lady’s alabaster throat the night of the ball.  All he needed to do was make a setting for the pearl, and it would be the perfect complement for Belle’s dress.  He knew there was an unlimited supply of jewelry stored away in his treasure room.  Bracelets, earrings, pendants and the like, but he wanted this piece to be special.  He smiled wistfully as he stared down at what would be a token of his love for her, wondering if she would see it as such.

          The Dark One for once was silent as Rumpelstiltskin trudged down the stairs from his tower.  He no longer felt threatened by the spinner’s feelings for the girl.  It was doubtful she loved him enough to break his curse with a kiss.  Who in their right mind would _love_ something as vile and evil as the Dark One?  He’d argued with his host, hopefully convincing him, but Rumpelstiltskin was a sneaky bastard.  He’d learned how to hide his feelings from the demon, so there was still that niggling doubt of how he truly felt about the girl.  Surely, he wasn’t stupid enough to give up his power.  Not for something as fleeting as love.

          Rumpelstiltskin hurried through his bath, anxious to see Belle.  He’d had quite a bit of time to search his feelings over the past three days, and he knew he owed her an apology.  For the first time in centuries – very _long_ centuries – he’d felt happiness … because of her.  He couldn’t give it up now.  He wouldn’t give _her_ up now.  He didn’t bother with his normal vestments, the stiff dragon hide jacket or a waistcoat.  Instead, the hour being late, he donned a soft cotton tunic and trousers.  Perhaps after he apologized, he could convince her to curl up on the settee in the library and read to him.

          Very quietly, he eased open the door to the library, hoping not to startle her, and at the same time gauge her mood.  She, no doubt, had to be more than a little peeved with him.  Disappointment made his face fall and his brow wrinkle in a frown.  Where was she?  It wasn’t like her to not be in the library at this hour.  From the thin layer of dust on the coffee table, and the cold embers in the hearth – which was _never_ dormant – he could tell she hadn’t been there in a long while.  What would keep her from her sanctuary?  He wondered if she’d even seen her dress.  With a flourish of his elegant hand, he cast a protective spell over it to keep it dust free before he left the library.

          He checked the kitchen and the great hall, all to no avail.  How much damage had he caused his girl with his refusal to talk to her?  Had she decided she’d had enough and left the castle?  The mage felt his chest constrict with panic.  She couldn’t have left.  He took the stairs two at a time, and rushed down the corridor to her room, praying he was wrong.  _Please let me be wrong.  Please let her be there._   He’d never intruded on her there.  It was hers, just as the library was, the only places in his castle where he’d never intrude without her permission.

          Yet, the fear of losing her pushed those boundaries aside and he barreled through her bedroom door, the lock splintering away from the jamb.  Belle shot up in bed, the duvet clasped to her chest as she let out a piercing scream.  “Rumpelstiltskin!”

          “Belle … “ he breathed in relief.  “Y-You’re here.”

          Her eyes flashed hotly as she threw aside the duvet and bounded to her feet, crossing the plush carpet to face him.  “And just where else am I supposed to be?” she cried, her heart racing.

          “Er – “

          “You’ve broken my door!  I –“ Her angry tirade was cut short as he pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him.  Her brow furrowed in confusion as he buried his face against the crook of her neck, his grip tightening about her waist.  “Are you alright?” she asked gently, though what he had to be upset about she had no clue.

          “I thought you were gone.  I couldn’t … I couldn’t find you in the library, or the kitchen … the hall, and I thought …”  He trembled, his throat burning with unshed tears.  “I’m sorry, Belle … I’m so sorry.”

          Belle slid her hands up his chest, her fingers delving into the soft curls at his nape.  “Stop, Rum, I’m here.  You’re not going to frighten me away.  I wouldn’t leave you,” she whispered, the heat of her anger dissipating, her breath tickling the shell of his ear and making him shiver.  Hope flared in her breast as he surrendered to her, and the hurt and anger she’d lived with for days drained away.

          “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.  I was awful to you the other day … when you did nothing but offer me honesty,” he murmured, leaning back so she could see the remorse in his soft amber gaze.  He ignored her squeak of protest as he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the bed.  “I apologize for disturbing you.  I didn’t mean to barge in like I did, but – “

          “I understand.  You were afraid.”  She tightened her arms about his neck.  “It’s alright to be afraid sometimes, Rum.”

          She scooted back against the headboard when he set her gently upon the bed, but she refused to let him go, reaching out to take his hands and pull him down to sit beside her. 

          “Belle, I shouldn’t,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.  He shouldn’t be this close to her, not as skewed as his emotions had been the past few days.  He shouldn’t even be in her bedroom at all.  “This isn’t at all appropriate.”

          “Neither is living here alone with you, darling.  Yet, that hasn’t stopped us, so get over it,” she snarked, lifting her chin defiantly.  She held onto his hands with one of hers and pressed the fingertips of the other against his lips.  “No, I don’t want to fight, Rum … please.  I just want to talk.  Don’t you?”

          Rumpelstiltskin bobbed his head in agreement.  “I suppose we should.  It’s why I came looking for you.”  He didn’t want to admit, though, how much her endearment meant to him.  “I want to apologize for the way I behaved … and believe me, Belle, it’s been a long time since I apologized to _anyone_.”  He felt his cheeks warm.  “It’s been … so long since I’ve cared enough about anyone to apologize.”

          She squeezed his hands.  “It’s your own fault, y’know.  You’re so afraid of being hurt … and I’m not trying to belittle that, but you let your fear keep you from letting anyone see how wonderful you are.  You only let people see the Dark One instead of the gentle man beneath.”  She reached up to smooth her fingers over the lines knitting his brow.  “Deny it all you like, Rum, but I see you … and I like what I see _very_ much.  Though you might want to curb that temper of yours.”

          He bit down hard on his tongue to hold his emotions in check, but his voice was still rough.  “I don’t deserve you.”

          “Pfft,” she scoffed.  “Yes, you do.”

          A lazy grin split his face at her insistence.  “When I believed you’d betrayed me; I went to confront Regina.  I made her tell me what she’d done to you that day.  I needed to know if she’d cast some sort of enchantment over you.”

          Belle gasped, raising one hand to cover her mouth, her eyes widening.  “You didn’t kill her, did you?”

          “No.  I wanted to, but … no.”  He sighed.  “I do wonder over your reaction, though, dearie.  She set out to deceive you.  It very well could have led to dire consequences if you had indeed tried to break my curse.  The Dark One could have taken over and harmed you.  Why would you fear for _her_?”

          She shook her head.  “Not her, Rumpel.  If it’s anyone I fear for, it’s you.  Do you think I want to see another black mark on your soul?”

          He leaned forward and pressed his brow to hers, his throat tight.  “It’s a bit late to be worried about the darkness of my soul, Belle.  Need I remind you of who I am?”

          “No, I’m well aware,” she returned dryly, nuzzling his nose with hers as she relished his closeness.  “So … what did you do to her?”

          “I questioned her, nothing more … well, I might have threatened her a wee bit.”

          “I can well imagine.”

          “Tossed her around, but nothing which would truly harm her.  She assured me she had only offered you advice on how to break my curse.”  He leaned back, breaking the contact and averting his gaze.  “She suggested I come home to talk to you.”

          Belle arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest.  “And it took you three days to return?”

          He winced.  “I … um … I needed time to think.  I also procured the other items on the list so we’ll be ready when the time is right to cast the spell.”

          She yawned and shifted on the mountain of pillows at her back.  “Did you get them?” she asked sleepily.

          “I did,” he murmured quietly, not wanting to disturb the relative peace which had settled over them.  “I’ll show you tomorrow if you’d like, but I think you need to sleep, dearie.”

          Belle covered his hand with hers.  “Stay with me.”

          “Belle …”

          “I missed you, Rumpel.  Stay with me,” she pleaded, holding his gaze.

          Rumpelstiltskin could see how much it meant to her, and if he were honest with himself, he would admit he’d missed her too.  “I really shouldn’t.”

          “And I think you really should,” she argued, tugging on his hand.  “You’ve deprived me of your company for days, master.  I’m feeling mighty neglected right now.”

          He placed one knee upon the mattress, his body responding to the seductive lure of her sweet voice.  “So demanding,” he tsked.  “Wherever is my little Belle, and what have you done with her, siren?”

          Belle smiled, and moved over to make room for him.  Her hands slid over his chest, her fingers fisting in his tunic as she pulled him closer.  He gave in, his arms wrapping tightly about her as he settled at her side and pulled the duvet over them.  “You must obey,” she giggled, “and reassure me of your continued affections.”

          Rumpelstiltskin pulled her flush with his body, the Dark One purring at the back of his mind, greatly pleased with her display of dominance.  “Cheeky wench,” he crooned against her throat, pressing a kiss to her pulse point. 

          She sighed blissfully as he peppered her face with slow exacting kisses meant to assure rather than arouse.  “Mmm, I’ll take that as a yes.”  She yawned again as he tucked her head beneath his chin, his hands rubbing languorous circles over her back.  “Rum?”

          “Yes, dearie?” he asked, unable to remember the last time his mind had allowed him to find such peace as he’d found in her arms.

          “My gown is beautiful.  Thank you for making it for me.  I’ll be so proud to have you escort me to the queen’s ball.”

          He pressed a kiss to her crown, feeling an unmistakable rush of warmth to his heart, as well as pride in her praise.  “Aye, dearest, now sleep.  We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

          “Stay with me tonight … even after I fall asleep.  It will be lovely to wake in your arms,” she sighed.

          He tightened his arms about her.  “Rabid griffons couldn’t tear me away.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: See! I promised I wouldn’t keep them apart for too long. Yay! Back to the fluff!! Next time: Rumpel helps Belle dress for the ball :D Hope you’re all still enjoying the story, and thanks so much for all the well wishes for my health. I’m finally back to myself. *hugs*


	9. Is This Trip Really Necessary?

 

          “Rumpelstiltskin!” came the anguished cry from the gallery above.  “What time is it?”

          The mage removed the ornate gold watch from the pocket of his waistcoat and glanced at the time.  “It’s a quarter of an hour from the last time you asked, dearie.  Whatever can be taking you so long?”

          Belle’s eyes flashed hotly.  She was sure he could feel the heat of them from where he stood in the foyer two floors below.  “This!” she fumed, grabbing a handful of her long chestnut hair and shaking it at him.  “This is what’s taking me so long.  I can’t do a thing with it.  And I don’t even know how I’m ever going to manage to get into my dress.”

          His brows rose as she bit her lip, worry marring her brow.  It was his own fault, his selfish need to have her all to himself that she didn’t have a maid of her own to help her with such tasks.  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked a bit sheepishly.

          “Yes!  You can come up here and help me finish dressing.  Otherwise, we’ll never make it to the ball on time.”  She disappeared from her place at the balustrade, presumably back to her room.

          He retrieved the velvet covered box from the table in the foyer containing the jewels he’d selected to go with her gown, and set off up the stairs.  His feet brought him unerringly to her door, her room as much his now as hers … at her own insistence.  After that first night of sharing her bed, she wouldn’t hear of him _sleeping_ anywhere else.  Though he hadn’t been able to find slumber since he’d taken on the curse, he was however able to find peace with her while she slept.  Just holding her in his arms, knowing she felt safe with him, that she _chose_ _him_ to be hers … the feeling was unimaginable.

          Rumpelstiltskin found her at her dressing table, yanking a brush through her long tresses.  Stepping behind her, he clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in reproval.  “Give me that.  You’re going to do more damage than good,” he admonished, taking the brush from her as he set the jewelry case on her vanity.  She sighed as he dragged his long fingers through her hair, his nails scraping gently against her scalp.  “That’s it, dearest.  Nice deep breaths.”

          As he began brushing through her hair, he concentrated on her worried frown, which only unsettled her further.  “Are you sure we have to go tonight?” she asked, looking away from his intense gaze upon her in the mirror.

          “Alas, we do.  We RSVP’d weeks ago; why are you wanting to beg off now?”  With great care he began to secure the soft curls to her crown with sapphire-tipped pins.  “Belle,” he prompted when she didn’t answer.

          “I just don’t feel good about this, Rumpel.  You say she’s changed …”

          “But?”

          “What if this is another of her schemes?  Or some sort of trap to … to hurt you?”

          He pinned the last of her curls in place, leaving a few to frame her lovely face.  His fingertips trailed along her bare nape, causing her to shiver.  “Don’t you trust me, little maid?” he purred next to her ear.

          Belle turned away from her reflection to press her brow to his, relishing in the moment of calm.  “You know I do, Rumpelstiltskin, but this is Regina we’re talking about.”

          “I know.  You just have to have faith that I will protect us both, Belle.” 

          She wrapped one arm around her waist, toying with the collar of her dressing robe with the other as she rose from the padded bench and moved to where her gown was draped over the dressmaker’s dummy.  He’d moved it to her room just that morning so she wouldn’t have to dress in the library.  “Then I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we,” she grumbled under her breath.

          Her hand toyed with the wide sash holding her robe closed, a rosy blush staining her cheeks.  She shouldn’t be nervous at the prospect of her sorcerer seeing her in her underthings, but since she hadn’t disrobed in front of him before, she supposed it was understandable.  Thankfully, her corset fastened in the front and she didn’t have to go through the indignity of having him help her tie it.  She watched him busy himself removing it from the dummy, noting his heightened color as he held it for her to step into, his gaze averted from her to preserve her delicate sensibilities.

          Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth went bone dry as she removed the robe and stood before him.  He dropped his gaze to the floor, but he couldn’t seem to keep it there.  His eyes began at her delicate feet which were encased in sheer white stockings, traveling slowly over her shapely calves and slender thighs to her garters.  The bottom of her shift began where the tops of her stockings left off, though it only enhanced the soft flare of her hips and indenture of her waist.  His hands itched to splay over her ribs, to rip the offending garment away and bury his face in the valley of her breasts, the soft globes swelling over the top of the corset.

          Belle smiled knowingly as she stepped into her gown, and let him guide the sleeves up her arms.  She felt every brush of his fingers, every soft sigh of his breath against her exposed skin, until her entire body hummed with desire for him.  If it were her decision, her own choice as to how they’d spend the evening, she’d find some way of coaxing him back into her bed for something far more pleasurable than sleep.  He wouldn’t, though.  He was holding back, still afraid to give in to their feelings for one another.  She wondered if it had anything to do with the spell, but was afraid to delve into the matter.  She didn’t want to think of what he had planned for them after the portal opened.

          He distracted her from her thoughts as his long spinner’s fingers glided over the bare flesh of her shoulders and over her exposed back before he began to fasten the long row of buttons he’d carefully and expertly sewn there, the buttonhook moving with fast proficiency.

          She shook out her skirts and smiled as she looked down at herself.  She could barely restrain herself from running to the mirror to see how it looked.  His softly uttered, “Don’t move,” however, held her in place.  He returned to her side with the jewelry case, placing it in her hands.  “Go on, dearie, have a look.”

          Her gaze flitted between his soft smile, so full of hopeful anticipation, and the box.  She gasped as she beheld its contents.  “Rumpel, these are exquisite,” she murmured, her gentle tone filled with awe.  A sapphire and diamond ring and bracelet lay upon the velvet, but it was the mystic blue pearl set in his own gold flanked on either side with a sapphire which held her attention.  “Wherever did you find a blue pearl?  They are said not to even exist in this realm.”

          Rumpelstiltskin shrugged as he led her over to the full length mirror and removed the drape, letting her see her reflection for the first time since donning her ball gown.  He was pleased as she beamed at her reflection.  “I needed one for the spell, and … well I thought the color would complement your gown.  Do you like it?” he asked as he fastened the delicate chain about her alabaster throat, his fingers lingering against the clasp where it rested against her perfect skin.

          “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes bright with unshed tears.  It was the first gift he’d given her since her library, a wealth of meaning behind the gesture.  “Thank you, darling.”

          He couldn’t hide his smile, though he did try as he helped her fasten the bracelet about her wrist.  “Now, I think we should be off, don’t you?”

          Belle took a deep breath and tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.  “Yes, I suppose we should try to get there before all the cake is gone,” she teased.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle pasted a smile on her petal pink lips … one she was far from feeling.  Her stomach was twisted into knots of apprehension when she should be relaxed and enjoying the time she could spend with her wily master.  She really needed to stop thinking of him as such.  He’d released her from their deal long ago, and with the new direction their relationship had taken, he had no claim on the title.  It was just so much fun to call him that, she thought mischievously.  Yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until they were once more on their way home.

          “You’re entirely too tense, dearie,” he whispered in her ear after he’d handed their cloaks over to a servant at the door.  He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her through the entrance hall, taking note of the various inquisitive stares – and some of outright horror – at the woman on his arm.  “The least you can do is _try_ to enjoy yourself this evening.” Rumpelstiltskin stopped at the end of the short queue into the ballroom, his eyes searching her face.  “I believe you wanted this to be a … what did you call it?  A _date_?”

          Belle’s face lit up with dawning understanding.  “Oh, Rum, I _do_ want this to be a date,” she insisted.  “I just can’t help but be worried over what the queen has planned.”  She inched closer to him, her breath teasing the shell of his ear.  “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be with tonight, Rumpelstiltskin.”

          The gold skin over his cheekbones darkened as he stared down at her, still in wonder that she truly wanted to be there with him.  His fingers came to rest beneath her chin, tilting it up.  “Then try to relax and have a good time, yes?”

          She could see the hope in his warm amber eyes and let the tension flow out of her stiff posture.  “Very well.  I will focus on you instead of the queen,” she acquiesced.

          Belle held her head high as the majordomo announced them and Rumpelstiltskin led her over to the dais where the queen sat surrounded by her family.  Charming looked rather uncomfortable, but Snow seemed to be enjoying herself.  The queen had forgone her throne, choosing to sit on an ornate bench big enough to accommodate herself and her new love.  Another chair had been set on her other side for Tinkerbell.  It was all so odd in Belle’s opinion, to see Regina relaxed and smiling instead of cold and smirking.  Outward appearances could be deceiving, however.

          “Rumpel, dear, I was beginning to wonder if you were coming,” Regina greeted him, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.  “And, Belle, you look lovely.”

          Belle inwardly groaned and remembered her manners, dipping into a curtsy as Rumpel bowed low from the waist.  “Your majesty,” she murmured.

          “Well, do run along and enjoy yourselves.  Don’t let me keep you from the fun.”

          The Dark One narrowed his eyes on the queen.  “I believe there was mention of a deal which needs to be fulfilled.”

          “And it shall be … later.  Did you think you’d walk in, snatch it from my hand and beat a hasty retreat?” she laughed.  “No, I fully expect you to show your lady a lovely evening before the deal is fulfilled, Rumpel.”

          He managed not to snarl at his nemesis as he dragged Belle away with him to the buffet table.  He wouldn’t admit he was still suspicious of the woman’s motives for wanting him there.  He wanted Belle to have a good time.  “Cake, dearest?” he asked, taking a dessert plate from one of the footman.

          Belle grinned as he led her to a small table off in a dimly lit corner.  “Sometimes I wonder where you got such a sweet tooth.  We could have had some of that delectable looking duck instead.”

          “Later.  Cake first,” he snarked.  Yet, instead of taking the first bite, he offered it to her instead.  She swallowed thickly as his gaze settled on her lips, and for the umpteenth time that night, she wished he’d lean in and kiss her.  Slowly she parted her lips and allowed him to maneuver the fork inside.  “Is it good?” he asked, watching closely for her reaction.

          “Afraid it’s poisoned?”

          “No,” he muttered dryly.  “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had you taste it first.”  He shoveled a rather large bite into his own mouth to prove he wasn’t afraid.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  She was doing it again … molding him like putty in her hands as she looked at him with that indecipherable emotion staring back at him from the depths of her cerulean eyes.  It was filled with so much softness and caring he could have wept.

          Her tongue darted out from between her glistening lips to catch a crumb and he had to look away.  The desire to kiss her was just too strong, and he’d already been denying himself the pleasure of her perfect mouth for far too long.  He needed a distraction to let his ardor cool.

          What actually came out of his mouth was in no way designed to help, but he couldn’t seem to gain control over his wayward tongue.  “Would you care to dance, Belle?”

 

**A/N: *sigh* they’re just so cute :D  Next time: Dancing! And Rum shares the tale of one of his deals.  Belle also has a run – in with Ella.  I want to thank you all for the lovely comments you’ve left for me and your continued support of this story. You just don’t know what it means to me!!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *sigh* they’re just so cute :D Next time: Dancing! And Rum shares the tale of one of his deals. Belle also has a run – in with Ella. I want to thank you all for the lovely comments you’ve left for me and your continued support of this story. You just don’t know what it means to me!!


	10. Be Still My Black Heart

 

          Rumpelstiltskin winced as Belle trod on his foot for the third time … the same foot in the same bloody spot.  He wondered if she were doing it apurpose.  “Belle, dearie, please pay attention.  My instep is suffering.”

          Belle bit back a grin as he pulled her closer.  Each time she stepped on his foot, he was forced to tighten his grip and press her to his chest instead of holding her nearly at arm’s length.  It was an old trick she and her friends had learned together – against the wishes of their rather handsome dance instructor – when they’d been forced to endure hour upon hour of lessons.  It wouldn’t do to try it again lest he suspect.  “I’m sorry, Rum.  I suppose I’m just a bit clumsy this evening,” she demurred, her eyes luminous as she regarded him from beneath her lashes.

          The sorcerer groaned at the sight of her heavily lidded gaze, and his hand gently caressed her hip before twirling her away from him.  This time when he reeled her back in, she managed to plant her sharp little heels on the parquet floor rather than his booted foot.  He breathed a sigh of relief and let himself relax a bit.

          “Rumpel, people are staring at us,” she said, twirling a lock of his hair about her finger as she looked over his shoulder.

          “It’s because you are beautiful, Belle, and they can’t seem to help themselves.”

          She glanced up sharply, pleasure at his compliment softening her features.  “As long as they keep their distance,” she murmured, enraptured by the warmth in his eyes.  “Or it could simply be my gown that has them staring.”

          “I told you blue was definitely your color, dearie.”

          Belle looked around again as she followed him through the intricate steps of the dance.  Most of the ladies present had chosen pink, white or red in deference to the day set aside to celebrate love, but there were a few scattered about in shades of yellow, purple and green.  Regina herself had chosen to wear a deep blood red confection with silver trim which only enhanced her dark beauty.

          She tugged gently on his hair, the locks now woven between her fingers where her hand rested against his collar.  “I think the craftsmanship of my gown is what sets it apart.”  Her nose wrinkled impishly as she leaned closer.  “Have I told you how much I love my gown, master?  It’s all the more special because you made it for me.”

          He flushed, his thumb swirling little patterns over the small of her back.  “It was my pleasure, Belle.”

          The song ended, but she retained her grip on his hand.  “One more?” she asked, her eyes pleading and dark.  She wasn’t quite ready to step out of his arms … not yet.  It was especially lovely that it was another slow waltz, and she could remain pressed against his chest.  She was rather enjoying herself, secure in his arms, until a movement caught her eye.  “Rumpel, isn’t that Prince Thomas, heir to Bedrosia?  Who is the girl with him?  The last I’d heard his father was looking for a match for him.”

          Rumpelstiltskin stiffened, his eyes narrowing on the princess.

          “You know her,” Belle stated, reading him.  “And you don’t think highly of her at all.”

          He glanced at her sharply, her astute observation into his feelings surprising him yet again.  “I made a deal with her.  She insisted when … well the how and why aren’t really important, but it was a deal nonetheless.  She wanted to go to the ball to meet her prince.”

          The mage twirled her out and reeled her back in, his hand settling against her back once more.  She arched a brow.  “And what did you ask for in return?”

          He looked away.  “It’s not important.”

          “I somehow doubt that.  What was your price?”

          Rumpelstiltskin sighed.  “Why must you know?” he hissed belligerently.

          “Because I want to know you, Rum,” she whispered softly.  “It doesn’t matter what you asked.  I will not judge you.”

          “She was asking me to remake her life, Belle, if you must know,” he hissed in irritation.  “A chance for wealth, title, and privilege, so you can understand the price would have to be worthy of the magic.”

          “Of course,” she nodded in understanding.  He’d explained magic and its price to her on more than one occasion.  Dark magic especially demanded its due.

          “I asked for her first born.”

          Belle gaped, but held the reprimand hovering on the tip of her tongue.  “A child?”

          “I did try to dissuade her from the deal.”

          “Or more likely you had an ulterior motive,” she returned.  After all, she _did_ know her master quite well by now. 

          A giggle trilled from his thin lips as he twirled them about with a bit more enthusiasm, leaving her breathless.  “An ulterior motive.  Ah, dearie, you think you know me so well.”

          A breathy sigh escaped her parted lips as she leaned into him.  “If I don’t … I’d like to,” she cooed.  “Now tell me what you planned to do with the child.”

          Rumpelstiltskin shook his head.  Would he always be in awe with the things which emitted from her sweet mouth?  “If – and I do mean _if_ – it came down to me claiming the child, I would have made certain it went to a proper home with loving and devoted parents.  But that isn’t why I chose the child as my price, Belle.”  He growled low in his throat as her fingers caressed his nape, heat flooding his body at her touch.  Apparently, he wasn’t explaining quickly enough for her curious nature.  “Suffice it to say I needed to be in a certain place at a very particular time.”

          “Because of the curse you wished the queen to cast … to take you to Bae?”

          “Yes.  She would have broken our deal, attempted to imprison me so she could keep her child, and there I would have remained until Regina cast the curse,” he admitted as he led her to the edge of the dance floor.  “I’ve always been rather adept at recognizing a desperate soul, and she was about as desperate as they come.  Why not use her to aid my cause?”  He could practically feel her trembling with … was that anger?  She was angry on _his_ behalf?

          It didn’t take her long to answer his unasked questions.  “I do not find honor in breaking my word, Rumpelstiltskin, and I value those who do even less,” she seethed, fighting to keep her face neutral so as not to give herself away.  “She shouldn’t have made a deal she didn’t intend to see through to the end.  You are the Dark One.  She should have known your price would be high.”

          Rumpelstiltskin lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm.  “My precious Belle…”  No one understood him as she did.  Another thing on a list of many which he loved about her.

          A devious gleam entered her eyes.  “Master,” she purred, feeling the tremor course through him through their clasped hands.  “Won’t you fetch us a glass of champagne?  I find myself rather parched.”

          “As you wish,” he said with a genuine smile.

          Belle watched him go, her teeth nibbling at her lower lip as she let her eyes wander his body.  _Good heavens, he’s a fine looking man_.  She gave herself a mental shake.  Now was not the time to ogle her master, not if she were going to take advantage of his brief absence.  She adapted an air of nonchalance as she approached one of the many servants moving throughout the ballroom with trays of food and drink, zeroing in on one offering little crystal cups filled with bright red punch.

          She took one from the tray, smiling coyly at the young man, and strolled off along the edge of the dance floor.  Her steps brought her farther away from Rumpelstiltskin, and closer to the little blonde princess and her husband.  Ella … she believed that was the name her master had provided.  She was lovely, truly, but there was an air of entitlement about the girl.  For all outward appearances, she was sweet, demure, and charming, but Belle could _see_ her for what she was.  _Pity me for what I was.  My life was so hard, but I needed someone to lift me out of the gutter because I didn’t have the courage to free myself.  I’m the victim, and I deserve to have someone rescue me.  I don’t owe anyone anything._ What she could see only enraged her further.

          Belle herself had sacrificed her freedom and an unknown future to save her kingdom, her family and friends.  Rumpelstiltskin could have easily killed her as made her a maid, but she had been determined to fulfill her part of their bargain.  _Her_ honor was beyond reproach.

          Belle inwardly seethed, her anger with the chit boiling in her veins.  The only evidence, the flush on her ivory skin and the darkening of her eyes.  She smiled and waited.  Waited for the opportunity to bring the girl down from her self-righteous pedestal.

         

*.*.*

 

          The Dark One’s senses prickled as he took two freshly poured flutes of champagne from the servant, and turned back to return to Belle where he’d left her at the edge of the dance floor.  Only she _wasn’t_ where he’d left her.  This didn’t give him cause for alarm.  He was quite good at sensing her now, especially if she were in the same room.  Belle had a way of projecting her emotions.  Only now, he didn’t like what it was she was projecting.  Anger bordering on quietly contained rage wasn’t something he was used to feeling from her.

          An outraged shriek pierced the room before he could locate her, and he took little comfort in knowing it hadn’t come from her.  The music came to a clamoring halt, dancers stumbled into their partners, and heads turned in the direction of the ruckus.

          “You stupid girl!”  Oh yes, he recognized that voice.  “You’ve ruined my gown with your clumsiness!”

          Rumpelstiltskin abandoned the champagne, banishing it with a wisp of magic as he made his way towards where he was sure his little dearie was causing trouble.

          “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he heard Belle say as he got closer, however, her tone was far from apologetic.  “I tripped and lost the contents of my cup.  It wasn’t on purpose, I assure you.”

          “Ella, dear, it was an accident,” Thomas tried to placate her.

          “Look at me, Thomas!” the princess wailed.  “It’s _red_ punch!  This will never come out.  Not to mention my evening is ruined.”

          “Perhaps a bit of club soda will – “

          Ella cut her off, her face as red as the stains on her formerly pristine white gown.  “You shouldn’t have been let out of your house if you’re unable to walk a simple straight line!”

          “Considering she is the lady of the Dark Castle, I suppose it is I who shouldn’t have allowed her … out of the house,” Rumpelstiltskin said with quiet menace as the guests parted to allow him forward to face the screeching girl. “Eh, dearie?”

          Ella’s eyes widened with fear as her face drained of color at his challenging tone.  Thomas slipped his arm about her waist and pulled her closer to his side.  “Dark One,” he said with a regal nod.  “I’m sure Ella didn’t mean to insult your lady.”

          “Oh, I think she did,” he tittered in the high pitch of the demon.  “And over something which was clearly an accident.  Wasn’t it, my dear?”

          Belle rested her hand in the crook of his arm and looked up at him, the picture of innocence.  “It was, Rumpel.  I have no reason to maliciously upset her or cause her embarrassment.  And I did apologize.”

          It was all he could do to hold back a giggle.  Quite the actress, his little dearie.  “Indeed you did, and yet she insulted you.”

          Regina pushed her way through the crowd, Snow at her side to see what was going on.  She knew firsthand how easily things could go awry when her former mentor was in a snit.  “Ella, it was an accident.  We saw the whole thing.  Why don’t you let Snow take you to get cleaned up?” she said diplomatically.  “And once you’ve recovered, I’ll personally see to your gown, yes?”

          Snow led Ella away, Thomas following, before the imp could curse her into oblivion.  Regina sighed.  “Would you like to tell me what that was about?”

          The Dark One giggled as he patted Belle’s hand where it rested on his arm.  “No, not especially, your majesty.”  He steered Belle in the opposite direction from where Snow had led Ella, but turned back to the queen for a moment.  “Lovely party by the way.”

          Regina rolled her eyes as he giggled, and made a motion for the orchestra to resume playing.  Why had she ever thought she’d get through this evening without at least one scene.

 

**A/N:  I just can’t stand Ella.  She was never one of my favorite Disney princesses, but OUAT ruined her altogether in my head once and for all :D  I’m so glad you’re all still with me on this story.  There’s still more goodies to come!  Next time: Rum and Belle have a misunderstanding and Belle and Regina have a chat.  Hope you’ll join me for the next installment.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just can’t stand Ella. She was never one of my favorite Disney princesses, but OUAT ruined her altogether in my head once and for all :D I’m so glad you’re all still with me on this story. There’s still more goodies to come! Next time: Rum and Belle have a misunderstanding and Belle and Regina have a chat. Hope you’ll join me for the next installment.


	11. Explain Yourself, Dearie!

 

          Belle shook out her skirts as Rumpelstiltskin led her away, wanting to assure herself she hadn’t gotten any punch on her own gown.  She’d be devastated should she have ruined all of her master’s hard work.  Her sigh of relief turned into a squeak of alarm as she was pulled behind a large potted fern and into a deserted alcove.

          Rumpelstiltskin didn’t look pleased.  “Is there something wrong?” she asked hesitantly, her gaze focused on the little furrow between his brows.

          “You sent me to fetch you a glass of champagne to get rid of me, didn’t you?  So you could cause mischief,” he stated, his eyes dark with displeasure.

          “Perhaps,” she hedged.

          “Explain yourself, dearie,” he demanded, crowding into her personal space.  His own anger simmered beneath the surface.  He’d had to defend her, to expose her as his own.  It left him vulnerable, and that was a complication he neither wanted nor needed.  He’d nearly lost her once to three vicious little termagants.  He didn’t relish the idea of going through that again.

          She stood her ground, not intimidated by his temper in the least.  “I was angry.”

          “Oh yes, Belle, I could feel you from across the room!” he hissed in a heated whisper.  “What were you thinking?  Is this any way for my lady to act?”

          Belle flushed as she remembered him calling her the lady of the Dark Castle, and how it had made her feel to have him acknowledge her as such.  He’d publicly claimed her and it brought her no end of pleasure.  “No, it’s not, and I apologize if I caused you distress.”

          “Belle – “

          “I’m not sorry for spilling punch on that girl, however.”

          “Belle – “

          She ducked her head as she tried to rein in her emotions.  She didn’t want him to see a side of her very few in her life had ever approved of.  Her temper had been a source of great contention between her and her father … especially after he’d arranged her betrothal.  “I just got so angry.” She poked him in the chest, forcing him to back up a step as her eyes flashed hotly.  “And let me tell you this, Rumpelstiltskin … I’m glad Regina will not be casting your curse.  All this plotting and manipulation … the thought of you locked in a cell to rot because of that twit!  I suppose I let my temper get the better of me.”

          His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides as he debated whether or not to touch her.  She didn’t give him a chance to make up his mind, recognizing the signs of his indecision.  She closed the distance and wrapped her arms about his waist, burrowing against his chest until he enclosed her in his warm embrace.

          Rumpelstiltskin pressed a kiss to her temple and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her soft curves fitted so tightly to his body.  “It wouldn’t have mattered, dearie,” He growled lowly against the shell of her ear, his anger replaced with need.  If he lived another century, he couldn’t imagine anything as right and perfect as the way she felt in his arms.  “Once I was imprisoned, you could have gone back to your father until the curse was cast.  I would have been nothing more than a bad memory.”

          Belle snorted.  “I’m close to losing my temper again, Rumpel,” she warned.  Returning to her father was a last resort, and then she didn’t think she’d be able to make herself go back to face the fate which awaited her in Avonlea. “Do you really think I would’ve left you there?  My place is with you.  I would have come for you.”

          He chuckled softly, not the shrill giggle of the demon.  “Your loyalty is to be commended.”

          She glanced up at him sharply.  “Loyalty?  Is that how you see it?” she spat.  Of course he couldn’t see it was the love she held for him which would have driven her to rescue him.

          “Well – “

          “I care for you, Rumpelstiltskin.  Can’t you see that?”  She made a sound at the back of his throat which he didn’t know if it was disappointment or disgust as she stepped out of his arms, and gave him her back.  “When are you going to see how much?”

          Belle leaned back into him as his arms slipped around her waist from behind, his chin coming to rest on her bare shoulder.  She could only imagine the internal struggle with the Dark One constantly telling him she couldn’t love him or want him … that no one could.  Wasn’t that a demon’s sole purpose, to keep its prey submerged in the darkness? But she refused to give up.  One day he would see how much she cared.  He would see she would never leave him.

          Rumpelstiltskin pressed a lingering kiss against her neck, his nose nuzzling just below her ear, sending a wave of gooseflesh pebbling her arms.  “I know you care, Belle … now.  But everyone I have ever loved has left me.  I was never good enough, strong enough, brave … _enough_ to keep them.  You’ll leave too eventually.”

          She swiped angrily at the moisture gathering in her eyes, and turned to face him.  “Then I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?” she murmured stubbornly.  “Because I will _not_ give up on you, Rumpel.  Not now, not ever.”

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle drained the last drop of champagne from her glass, and inhaled deeply, finally feeling her nerves settle for the first time that evening.  She still couldn’t believe she’d left him there alone.  More surprising was he’d let her go, giving her time to clear her head.  It seemed for every step they took forward in their relationship; they took four back.  Her master had some major issues, the least of which was his tendency to hate himself.  What had happened to him in his life to make himself think himself unworthy of love?  To think he’d never be good enough.  Oh, how she would love to get her hands on the people in his past who’d wronged him, and give them a piece of her mind.  Apparently, she was going to have her work cut out for her if she was going to make him see himself as clearly as she did.

          She held out her glass and waited patiently for the servant to fill it.  Even if she didn’t drink it, she would have something to occupy her fidgety hands.  All she wanted was to go home.  She wanted to talk to Rumpelstiltskin, and clear the air between them.  There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to hear, and the ball was no place to have a conversation.  How much longer would Regina make him wait?  Surely not until midnight.

          “Hello, dear.”

          _Speak of the devil and he’ll come a-knocking.  Or in this case … she._

          “Good evening, your majesty,” Belle said, but she refused to curtsey to the woman again.  “Mingling with the masses to find new prey?”

          The queen laughed with genuine amusement at the girl’s quip.  “Not at all.  Really, too many people are still wary of me.  They don’t think I’ve changed, despite the reparations I’ve begun to make towards those I’ve wronged.”

          Belle sighed.  “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

          Regina linked her arm through Belle’s and led her around the dance floor, a simple stroll and a little girl talk.  “Of course not.  I don’t expect people to forgive me, and I especially don’t expect them to like me, Belle.  I just have to do the best I can to focus on the kingdom, and try to be a good queen.”

          “I see Snow has forgiven you.”

          “Snow tries to see the good in everyone.”

          “Even when it’s not there?” Belle asked, arching a dubious brow.

          “You’re right, and there was no good in me for a long time.  But you of all people should believe in second chances,” Regina said quietly.  “You are one of the few in this kingdom … probably the entire realm, who sees good in Rumpelstiltskin.”

          “There _is_ good in him,” she hissed defiantly, daring the woman to argue with her.

          “Yes, there is,” the queen agreed.  “There were so many times he kept me from crossing a line from which I’d never be able to come back.  Something good, still in his heart, just hanging on to keep him from being truly evil.”

          Belle’s eyes narrowed on Regina, her lips compressed into a thin line.  “Then why did you want so badly to destroy him?”

          “I was in a very bad place in my life, Belle.  I wanted everyone to be as miserable as I was,” she admitted.  “I would have reveled in his pain of losing you.  Breaking his curse wouldn’t have harmed him physically, it just would have rendered him powerless.  At least I think it would.  Some say once magic touches you it won’t let go.”

          Belle sighed, wishing Regina would say what was on her mind and be done with the games.  “I couldn’t do that to him.”

          “Did you even try, dear?”

          “No.”

          “Why not?” Regina asked, baffled by the girl.  “Were you afraid it wouldn’t work, when anyone can clearly see you love him?”

          Belle looked away, the queen’s piercing stare quite capable of reading her.  She wasn’t trying to hide her feelings, after all.  “I was afraid … afraid he didn’t love me, and the kiss wouldn’t work anyway.  I can’t love him enough for both of us.”

          “For what it’s worth … I’m sorry I tried to trick you.”

          “I beg your pardon?  Did you just apologize to me?” Belle asked incredulously.  “Have a bit too much champagne this evening, your majesty?”

          Regina laughed.  “No, not at all.  But I am a firm believer in second chances since I was granted one of my own.  If you love him, you will help him find his.  You’re the only one who can.”  She reached into the bodice of her gown and retrieved a small scroll.  “Here, take it.  Be happy, Belle.  And try to help Rumpelstiltskin find his happiness too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Don’t worry, dearies, they’ll be all lovey dovey in the next chapter and all will be well. They have issues, but nothing too severe they can’t overcome. Next time: Rumpel is one step closer to Bae and he asks Belle if she’ll go with him on his journey. Hope you enjoyed!!!


	12. Come with Me

 

          Rumpelstiltskin cursed inwardly as Tinkerbell stepped into his path, a serene smile upon her lovely face.  His stomach churned and the demon howled, not at all happy to be so close to the fairy.  There was an ethereal quality to her beauty – something she had managed to retain despite her banishment.  Still not as enchanting as his Belle, in his opinion.  His eyes narrowed, but snarling and snapping at her in the midst of Regina’s guests was not how he wanted to end his evening.  Unfortunately, she had other ideas.

          “Rumpelstiltskin,” she greeted, stepping into his path and effectively cutting off his route of escape.

          “Ah, hell.  What do you want?” he sneered, leery of her winsome smile.

          “Just a brief word.  Surely you can spare a moment to discuss the spell Regina is even now giving to your dear Belle?”

          That got his attention, his head whipping around to search through the crowd for his little dearie.

          “Don’t fret, Dark One.  Regina won’t harm her,” Tink assured him.

          He turned back to the fairy, his upper lip curling in disgust.  “You’re so sure of that, are you, dearie?  Apparently, you don’t know her as well as you’d like to think.”

          “You’re not happy she’s changed, but _she_ has.  She’s happy now.  There is no danger to Belle.  But the queen’s happiness is not what I wished to discuss with you.”  She reached into the small reticule tied about her wrist and removed what appeared to be a small gold coin, pressing it into his palm.

          He knew there was nothing ordinary about the coin, in spite of its appearance.  It was humming with fairy magic.  “What is it?” he asked simply.

          The fairy smiled softly.  “You’ll need it to find Baelfire.  Fairy magic is one of the few magics which will survive in the land where he is.  It’s because –“

          “Because the fae have their fingers in all sorts of pies,” he muttered, already bored with her.  “What does the coin do?”

          Tinkerbell sighed.  The Dark One had never been known for his patience with her sisterhood.  “It will lead you to him, of course.  It contains one of the most powerful locater spells in existence.  A single drop of your blood is all that’s needed to activate it.  It will then lead you to anyone blood related to you, Rumpelstiltskin.”

          “Blood magic?  From a fairy?” he asked, glaring at her.  “Rheul Ghorm could have aided in my search centuries ago, and yet she let me waste my time –“

          “I don’t agree with her, Rumpelstiltskin, but I can see now why she didn’t bother with you then.”

          “What?!”

          “You weren’t ready.”

          He was a split second away from losing his temper.  “I was _ready_ the second I lost my boy down that bloody portal,” he hissed.

          She shook her head.  “I’m sure you were, but the spell wouldn’t have worked.  Why should Blue give you false hope?  Once you peruse what is necessary for the spell to work, you will understand.”  She spun on her heel to return to her friends when she saw the queen had once again taken her place next to Robin on the dais.  “Good luck!”

          _Bloody meddlesome mosquitos,_ he seethed.  His right hand clenched into a tight fist to stop himself from cursing her into oblivion.  It didn’t surprise him Rheul had kept this spell to herself.  She was rather selfish unless it suited her purposes to show her generosity.  She was a controlling little bug, and he was glad he’d be leaving the realm and wouldn’t have to put up with her machinations for much longer.  His narrowed gaze searched through the sea of guests for a spot of blue, wondering where his Belle had gotten off to … and whether she was still angry with him.  He tucked the coin into the pocket of his waistcoat and set off to find her.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle sighed as two very familiar and comforting arms slipped about her waist.  She leaned back into her love’s embrace, shivering as he lips brushed the shell of her ear.  “Are you still angry with me, dearie?” he whispered.

          She turned her head slightly so his lips would brush her cheek.  “I was never angry with you, Rum … just disappointed I suppose.  No woman wants to hear such things from the man she loves.  It’s terribly unsettling.”

          “Belle …” he groaned.

          “Rumpel, might we go home now?  I’m weary of the crowd.  I miss the quiet of the castle where we might be alone.”  She went willingly when he turned her in his arms to face him.  “You’re trembling,” she observed, studying him carefully.

          How could he not when she’d pretty much just admitted to loving him? “Such is your effect on me, Belle,” he whispered, trying to remember they were in a ballroom filled with people instead of in the privacy of their home.  “Come, let us go.  You have the spell?”

          She nodded, taking his arm as they proceeded towards the door where they’d collect their cloaks and have their carriage brought around.  “Yes, the queen gave it to me just moments ago.”  At his questioning gaze she added, “Don’t worry, Rum, it’s safe.”

          They didn’t have to wait long for the carriage.  The footmen – seeing who was indeed ready to leave – wasted no time in moving the Dark One’s conveyance to the front of the queue.  The temperature was frigid, well below freezing, and a light snow had begun to fall.  The braziers had been supplied with fresh coal and lit, and a wave of warmth met them as Rumpelstiltskin assisted her into the carriage.  He followed, settling himself at her side and covering her with the soft sheep skin blanket he kept there for her comfort.

          Still she shivered, burrowing into her ermine-lined velvet cloak.  Without a thought for anything but her comfort, he wrapped his arms about her, his hands rubbing gentle circles over her back.  He’d never had to worry about the temperature of the weather … not since he’d taken on the curse of the Dark One, but Belle … his precious girl didn’t like the cold.  She needed warmth, sunlight. Her body craved it.  Her soul did as well, if he weren’t mistaken.  One more reason to wonder why she’d set her affections on him.  He breathed a sigh of relief when her shivers abated and she rested more comfortably against his side.

          He discarded the tall collar insert on his jacket and was rewarded by her delighted purr, the sound reverberating against his skin as her lips pressed to his throat.  That feeling of peace – unmatched and unparalleled, bordering on bliss which so riled the demon – descended upon him, and he sighed, his arms tightening about her.  Gods, how he loved her, he thought, awestruck by her acceptance.

          “Belle, dearie … “ he breathed against her temple.  “I need to … um …”  His breath caught as her hand slipped beneath his jacket and glided over the silk of his waistcoat to wrap about his waist.  “I need to ask you something,” he stammered, sounding a bit breathless even to his own ears.

          “You can ask me anything, Rum,” she encouraged him, tilting her chin up to meet his heated gaze.

          “The spell … the portal …” He had to clear his throat.  He could easily get lost in the cerulean depths of her eyes.  There was safety and love and warmth and everything he’d ever wanted right there in those pools of blue.  “Come with me, Belle.  Come with me to find my son.”

          Her hand trailed up his chest until it rested on the side of his neck, her thumb caressing the dip between his collarbones.  “As if I’d let you leave me behind.”

          He stared down at her in stunned disbelief.  “You _want_ to come with me?  Belle, there won’t be any way to come back.  You’ll be stuck there with me.  What if you change your mind, dearie?”

          “Whether or not you believe it, Rumpelstiltskin, you will always be my choice.  In all things, you are my choice.”

          His hand slipped around her nape, his long fingers effectively ruining her coiffure as they delved into her soft locks.  “I will try to be worthy of you, my Belle.  I promise,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth.

          “I don’t want you to be anything less than what you are … master,” she cooed, returning his affection and teasing the corner of his own mouth.  Oh she could get used to this, she thought as fire flooded her veins.

          “Belle … “ he warned, his body tightening, her touch evoking feelings he hadn’t felt in centuries.  She was slowly tearing down his walls and he was forced to ask himself if he even wanted them to remain intact.

          She watched him closely as his features softened with desire.  He’d never been more beautiful to her.  She cradled his beloved face in her warm palms and smiled.  “I suppose I shouldn’t call you that if it irritates you so.  Perhaps one day you’ll find another more appropriate title for me to call you.”

          Her words were giving him all sorts of ideas … ideas and hopes he had never dared contemplate.  “Perhaps I will, dearest.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Rum really hates fairies lol. At least he and Belle made up though. Nice to see they didn’t let their misunderstanding fester and cause more strife between them, eh? Next time: Rumpel is not at all pleased by the catalyst for the spell. Thankfully, Belle is not worried they can make it work. Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> On a personal note, I want to apologize for taking so long to post. I had the worst case of pancreatitis in the history of mankind made worse by my defective gallbladder. Needless to say I was a writhing mess of pain and agony for a week, stuck in the hospital (thank god for pain killers). So now I’m back home less the gallbladder and have a new chapter for y’all. Hope the wait was worth it, and thanks to all who decided to stick with me :D


	13. You've Got to be Kidding

 

          “Rum, this isn’t necessary,” she cooed in a sultry tone, her lips brushing the shell of his ear and making him shiver.  A pleasant tickling along his spine which had nothing to do with the frigid cold, and everything to do with the woman in his arms.

          He kept his eyes on the path so he wouldn’t slip on the thin layer of ice clinging to the cobblestones.  He didn’t want to take a chance of dropping his beloved before he could get her inside to warm up.  “Rubbish!  I’d be most put out to have this evening end on a sour note.  Broken bones tend to do that, dearie.”

          She smiled and laid her head against his shoulder, her arms tightening about his neck as he carried her up the steps and into the castle.  “I think you just like to find excuses to have me in your arms,” she teased.

          The great entrance doors closed behind them as they entered the foyer, and he set her on her feet, reveling in the slow slide of her body against his.  Though she’d been released, Belle was reluctant to let him go, enjoying the warmth of his elegant hands against her hips.  His lips curled into a rakish grin.  “You’re kind to indulge an old monster.”

          Belle arched a brow and sighed, reaching for the clasp of his cloak.  “Pfft,” she scoffed.  “There are no monsters here, Rumpelstiltskin.”  She took his outerwear – as well as her own – and left him there to hang the garments in the massive wardrobe beneath the stairs.

          He clasped his hands behind his back as she returned to his side, refusing to argue with her.  He wanted to continue their evening if she was amenable.  “Are you tired, dearie?” he asked with a raise of his brows.

          Her heart fluttered as she took in the hopeful gleam in his warm amber eyes.  “Not trying to get rid of me, are you?”

          “On the contrary.  I thought we might go upstairs to the library, and …”  He brushed a loose curl behind her ear, his fingertips ghosting over her cheek.  “And … um, have tea in front of the fire …”

          “And perhaps have a look at the spell hidden somewhere on my person?”  She giggled at his crestfallen expression.  “Darling, you are so transparent at times.”

          “So … is that a no?”

          “Of course not,” she assured him, linking her arm through his and leading him towards the stairs.  “Would you mind if I changed first?  My corset is cutting into my ribs something fierce, and I’d like to be comfortable.”

          Rumpelstiltskin nodded, relieved she wasn’t trying to escape his company.  “Take your time, dear.  You know where I will be when you’re ready to join me.”

          “And bring the spell,” she giggled, putting voice to what he’d left unsaid.  “Rum, I know how important it is to you.  I won’t make you wait longer than necessary.”  She raised up on her toes and pressed her lips to his weathered cheek as they came to a stop at her door.  She bit her lip as another thought crossed her busy mind.  “What of my stays?”

          He released a nervous giggle himself as she pushed open her door.  “I’ve spelled them to unfasten once you enter your room.  That way you won’t need me to help.  I don’t think I could bear disrobing you, dearie,” he mumbled the last as the gold over his cheekbones darkened.  “At least not without showing you what a beast I can be.”

          “Rumpelstiltskin, you act like that’s such a horrid thing.” She gave a slight tug on his cravat, her lips ghosting over his to reach the corner of his mouth.  “Do you find me wanton because I find your beastly side a bit exciting?”

          A little whimper was her only answer, and she smiled coyly as she gave him her back and disappeared into her room.  She leaned back against the door as she closed it behind her, and sighed, her smile radiant.  Gods, how she loved him, she thought as she tried to calm her racing heart.  If only she could make him see her feelings as more than a flight of fancy.

          She hurried through her sitting room and into her bedchamber, giving a little squawk as her fastenings gave way and her dress and corset pooled about her feet.  He hadn’t been kidding!  She made quick work of divesting herself of her petticoats and underthings, but her eyes were drawn to a lavishly wrapped box sitting on her bed before she could rummage through her wardrobe for something to wear.

          Belle reached for the box, ignoring the chill of her room as she was clad only in her thin shift.  She pulled the bright red ribbon off and tore through the gold paper to discover the delights within, a gasp upon her parted lips.  A folded note in her love’s elegant pen was set atop a lovely silk nightdress and matching peignoir in fine velvet just a shade darker, delicate lace adorning the cuffs and hem with shiny gold clasps to hold it closed. 

 

_My darling Belle –_

_I thought I would find a better use for the pink fabrics you favored so well.  Happy Valentine’s Day, dear one._

_Love –_

_R_

          She set the note aside and ran her fingers reverently over her gift.  “Oh, Rum …”  He could be so romantic when he wanted to, especially when he wasn’t trying so hard to be the big bad Dark One.  Realizing she’d dallied long enough, she donned her new gown and robe and set off to join him, wondering what delights the evening might yet have in store for them, the small scroll Regina had given her clutched tightly in her hand.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin stood at the bank of windows in the library overlooking the vast gardens below.  He wondered if his Belle would miss the castle once they left for a land with no magic.  Surely, they would be able to find a suitable dwelling to make into a home for them.  He still worried, though, and hoped it wouldn’t take them too long to find Bae.  His gaze wandered to the ornate clock resting innocuously on the mantle above the hearth.  What in the seven realms could be taking Belle so long?

          He took in the room at a glance, more than pleased with his handiwork.  A warm fire crackled in the hearth, muted candlelight lent a warm romantic glow to the room, and the coffee table was laden with treats for his beloved.  His nose wrinkled as he stared down at the frilly lace tablecloth covering the low table.  Was it a bit too much?  He’d already done away with the chocolate covered strawberries and champagne in favor of tea and cakes.  What if she thought he were trying to seduce her?

          No, something safe and familiar would serve him best.  In no way did he want her to think he were trying to take advantage of her.  The Dark One chuckled ominously in the back of his mind.  _And who’s to save you from her?  She’s made it quite clear she’d like nothing more than to have you in her bed between her –_

          “Ack! Not another word!” he snarled.

          “Rum, darling, who are you talking to?” Belle asked, looking about curiously as she entered the room.

          “Er … no one, dearest,” he caviled, his hands fidgeting at his sides.  It was then she came into the light and he could see her gift clinging to her soft curves.  “Oh, Belle, you look beautiful.”

          She twirled about for him, so he could see her from all angles.  “Thank you, Rum.  It was a lovely gift.”  Her hand slipped into his, and she pulled him along with her to the settee to pour them each a cup of tea.  Once she’d handed him the chipped cup full of the aromatic brew, she withdrew the scroll from her pocket and pressed it into his free hand.  She watched his fingers hesitate as if he were afraid of what he’d find inside the ancient parchment.  “Go on, darling; open it.”

          His voice was thick, warm as it washed over her.  “You liked the pink,” he said simply.  “I just didn’t think it appropriate for your ball gown.”

          Belle took his cup and set it on the table along with her own.  Right then she couldn’t have cared less about tea and cakes.  He was her sole focus.  She tucked herself against his side and folded her hands around his arm before resting her head against his shoulder.  “It was a wonderful evening, Rum.  Now read the scroll before we both expire from suspense.”

          The sorcerer chuckled lowly and dropped a kiss to her crown.  “Always so impatient, my Belle.”

          “No more than you,” she whispered sagely with a fervent nod.

          He turned his attention to the scroll, trying his best to ignore the fairy magic woven into the parchment.  The list of ingredients rolled easily off of his tongue as he read the words written in the language of the fae.  “Dragon shell from a new hatchling, a rare blue pearl from the land which never ends, ground griffon talon, three tulip stamens collected under a blue moon …”

          “Doesn’t sound too complicated,” Belle said, encouraged as he remained relaxed beneath her light hold.  “You have all these things, yes?”

          Rumpelstiltskin hummed distractedly as his eyes flickered over the remaining ingredients, those every wizard would have on hand as staples in his stores.  “I can use the smallest cauldron –“

          “The one I like to plant herbs in?”

          “Yes, dearest, I’m afraid I’ll need that back,” he chided gently, seeing her smile in return.  “The potion will need to stew for twelve hours during the first night of the full moon.”

          “That’s tomorrow!  Do you think that is why the queen chose today for her ball?”

          “I don’t know … it’s possible.  She will have known I’d want to act on this with all haste.”  He read a bit further, his heart beginning to pound with hope.  Could it all really be so simple?  Was it possible he’d be reunited with his Baelfire before the week was out, Belle at his side?  “The last steps are to distribute the potion on hallowed ground blessed by a … fairy, and then … “

          “What?” she asked, not liking the way he began to radiate with tension, a tremor of barely restrained panic humming beneath his skin.  “Rumpel, what is it?”

          He bolted from the settee with a howl of unadulterated rage as he felt his hope crumble to ash.  “She tricked me!  I knew it was too bloody good to be true!”

          Belle shot to her feet, her brows drawn with worry as she went to him, her hands clamping tightly over his wrists.  “Surely, it can’t be as bad as all that.  Regina seemed sincere when I spoke with her this evening.  Whatever it is, we can do this.  Don’t give up now.”

          His eyes were narrowed shards of ice as he glared at her, scoffing at her naiveté.  “Oh, now you believe her?!” he sneered.  “You were the one convinced she couldn’t change, Belle.”

          She ducked her head sheepishly, though she didn’t release her hold on him.  It was evident her touch was the only thing grounding him in the moment, and she wouldn’t be responsible for him spiraling out of control and unleashing the Dark One’s temper.  “Rum, I’ve never known you not to be able to procure an item you might need.  You have nearly limitless power.  We’ll –“

          “It’s not an ingredient, Belle!” he raged, slipping from her grasp to pace back and forth across the hearth rug.  Finally, he stretched out his arms and anchored his hands against the mantle, staring down into the crackling flames.  “I have all the ingredients.  This is the catalyst to make the portal open … something I will never have.  No wonder Rhuel Ghorm was so reluctant to hand over the spell.  She knew it would be worthless to me.”

          Her slippered feet were silent as she moved to stand beside him.  “Why?  Why now have you lost hope?”  She tugged gently on his right arm, pulling it from the mantle.  He hesitated only a moment before slipping it about her waist.  Her fingertips brushed the hair away from his brow and she could clearly see the desolation and despair in his expressive eyes.  “Tell me, my love … please?”

          “It’s something no Dark One has ever had, nor _will_ ever have … true love.  We need true love’s kiss to activate the spell.”

          Belle curled her fingers in the hair at his nape, already feeling him trying to pull away from her.  His fears, the self-loathing he’d lived with for so long, and the belief he wasn’t worthy of love were all there written on his beloved face.  She could see the wariness in his gaze as she fitted her body flush with his.  “Then why haven’t you kissed me yet, hm?  Isn’t it because somewhere deep in that heart of yours you know how much I love you?” she murmured, her nose brushing against his as she closed the distance between them.

          “Belle … don’t toy with me.”

          She ignored the growl of warning rumbling up in his throat and squared her shoulders with determination.  He was afraid.  Afraid to kiss her only to have his fears confirmed. To discover she truly wasn’t able to love him enough.

          “Then let me show you,” she whispered, a second before she claimed his lower lip between her own.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, I’m so awful for leaving it right there. I’m trying to quit smoking and the mood swings are apparently bleeding over into my creative flow. Either that or I’m just plain evil :D So! Next time: Belle makes a point, romance, and Regina does a bit of harmless spying. It’s going to be fun. Thanks so much for reading, my darlings!


	14. True Love's Kiss

 

          His entire body threatened to shut down as Belle’s petal soft lips touched his for the first time.  It wasn’t a fleeting brushing or ghosting as she’d allowed him before.  Not this time.  No, it was firm and lasting and beautiful.  He could swear he could hear the sound of shattering glass as the darkness fell away from his heart, light flooding through him in an almost painful cataclysm, joy surging through his veins.  The Dark One howled in agony, fighting for control, desperately sinking his talons into the spinner to retain his grip on his soul.

          Before the magic could wrest the demon from him, Belle drew away, her fingers tugging on the ends of his hair.  The slight pain wrenched him back to the present, allowing his curse to maintain its foothold.  Her smile was radiant as she looked up at him, her right hand caressing his cheek.  “Now do you believe?” she asked breathlessly as she watched the pink flesh wavering over his face settle back into the green-gold of the Dark One.

          “You stopped,” he accused.  His knees buckled, and he dropped like a stone to the hearth rug, dragging her down with him.  She never let go, her grip tightening on him.  “Why?  Why did you stop?”

          “I needed to show you we do indeed share true love, Rumpel.  I had no intentions of taking your curse from you,” she explained, her lips trailing over his jaw as his hands came to rest on her hips, drawing her closer.  “You need your magic.”

          Rumpelstiltskin buried his face against the curve of her ivory throat, breathing heavily as he continued his struggle against his inner demon.  “I need _you_ , Belle.”  He didn’t like what was happening to him, that battle raging within.  The demon was nearly frantic to reestablish its dominance over his host and it was one of the most discomfiting things he’d ever experienced.  Yet, with effort, he managed to reassure her.  “I could feel you … your love wrapping itself around my heart.  I don’t want to let go of it.”

          He shivered as her nails scratched lightly over his nape.  “You don’t have to, Rum.  It’s yours … it’s always been yours,” she whispered, pressing her lips to that sweet spot below his ear.  “I love you, Rumpelstiltskin … all of you.”

          A low animalistic rumbling deep in his chest was her only warning before she found herself pressed back into the hearth rug, her arms pinned above her head in her sorcerer’s steely grip.  “Why, dearie?  How can you love me when even now I’m trying in vain to keep the demon from you,” he growled fiercely, his eyes nearly black now as his face came ever closer to hers.

          Belle gasped, her own eyes darkening, though not with the fear he expected.  Instead of cringing away from the hand which came to rest against her slim throat, she arched her body into his.  Not only did she make it clear she wasn’t afraid of him, but that she wanted him as well.  “It’s part of who you are, your curse.  If I reject the Dark One, it would be comparable to telling you I love you conditionally, and I can’t do that.” Her voice dropped to a husky register.  “I love … _want_ … every part of you, Rumpelstiltskin.  You are _mine_.”

          His lips crashed over hers, and she whimpered happily as his tongue invaded her mouth.  He felt so unbelievably confused.  The darkness within him ebbed and flowed the longer he kissed her, the demon seeking to merge with him instead of fighting against him.  It was then he realized the entity which had sought to control him for so many centuries had found something he wanted more … Belle.  The Dark One felt accepted by her, wanted by her, _loved_ by her.  For the first time since the curse had been created by that do-gooder sorcerer, he’d found acceptance.  He retreated minutely, willingly surrendering control to his host while reaping all the benefits.

          “Rumpel,” she breathed feverishly against his lips when he withdrew enough to allow her breath.  “Your curse, darling … you shouldn’t –“

          His lips trailed over her cheek to the smooth curve of her jaw as his thumb caressed the hollow of her throat.  “Shh, dear one.  All will be well when it comes time to cast the spell.  I-“ He groaned as she wrapped her leg over his hip, pressing herself closer.  His head dropped to her shoulder, trying to calm the unadulterated lust surging through him.  “Belle …”

          Belle struggled against his hold, and he instantly released her, not having realized he’d still had her trapped in his grasp.  Her arms wound about his shoulders, her hands exploring the contours of his skin as she pulled his cravat off and tossed it aside.  “So … I can kiss you as much as I’d like now?” she asked, a rosy blush settling in the apples of her cheeks.

          “I-If you like,” he murmured hesitantly.  Rumpelstiltskin still couldn’t fathom how she could want him in his cursed state – or as he’d been before for that matter – but he would deny her nothing.  “If you want me, Belle … I’m yours.  Everything I am … is yours.”

          A darkly mischievous smile curled her lips as she pushed at his shoulders, flipping him onto his back to stare up at her with a startled expression.  Her fingers twined with his, her turn to hold his hands captive above his head.  He was too stunned to move.  Her legs straddled his hips, her slender form a delicious weight against his turgid arousal.  “ _My_ Rumpel,” she declared possessively as her lips sought his once more.  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be able to touch you like this.”

          Rumpelstiltskin felt as if he’d fallen into one of the many dreams he’d had of her in the past months.  She wanted him, loved him, and it was almost too good to be true.  The Dark One growled in warning in the deep inner recesses of his mind, telling him not to let his doubts ruin the most perfect experience of his life.  For once, he listened to the demon’s advice and relaxed beneath her touch.  He shivered as her hands disentangled from his and mapped a slow path down his arms to his chest where she popped the clasps on his waistcoat.

          “What are you doing?” he gasped against her mouth.

          Belle chuckled lowly, her lips moving to suckle gently at his rapidly beating pulse point.  “What does it look like?”

          He caught her hands as they moved to the buttons on his shirt.  “It appears as if you’re trying to get me naked.”

          She blushed deeply, but her wicked smile never faltered.  “How very astute of you, my love,” she teased.  She lowered her head to his chest, her lips hot on his skin as she kissed each new bit of flesh she revealed. 

          He ignored the intense sparks of fire along his every nerve ending as her tongue darted out to lick one flat nipple, his hands grasping the trailing ends of his shirt and pulling it closed over his chest.  “Belle!”

          She dropped her hands to her lap, her wide startled gaze meeting his up close as he sat up beneath her and gripped her upper arms, giving her a minute shake.  “I’m sorry … did I do it wrong?” she asked, concerned over his rejection.  “Rumpel, do you _not_ want this … me?”

          “What?! Of course I want you,” he insisted, gaping at her incredulously.  “But I want to make sure this is what _you_ want, Belle.”  Now that his internal struggle had waned, he needed to assure himself he wasn’t taking advantage of her.

          Belle relaxed once more at his affirmation, and wrapped her arms about his neck, pressing her brow to his.  “We’ve been teasing one another for the better part of a month, Rumpel, and I’ve wanted you for far longer than that.”

          “H-How long?” he asked, drawing in a ragged breath as her nails ghosted over his fevered flesh, slipping beneath his open shirt to push it off his shoulders.  Gods, she was going to be the death of him!

          “Since the thief?  William something or other … I forget his name.”

          “The brigand who stole the Scepter of Alexandria to give to his paramour so she’d accept his suit? That one?” he asked dryly, his jaw clenching tightly at the memory. 

          “Yes, him.  It was rather foolish of him to set his sights on such a vain monarch, but his heart was in the right place, and she truly did love him.”

          Rumpelstiltskin’s hands settled on her hips, his fingers drawing patterns over the soft velvet of her peignoir.  “What’s he to do with anything?” he grumbled.

          Her fingers smoothed over the lines on his brow, ridding him of his deep frown.  “It was the first time you let me in.  Even though you scoffed and argued that love was fleeting and power was eternal, you let him go … because I asked you to.  You even let him keep the scepter to woo his girl.”  She pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeply.  “You gave me hope, and then you brought me home and gave me a library.”

          “Well, I thought if you had this room to occupy your time – aside from your chores, that is – you would keep that pert little nose out of my affairs.”

          She pursed her lips to hide her grin.  “Of course, darling.  But it _was_ the first time I felt something for you … here,” she said, taking his hand and laying it over her heart.  “And I wanted more.  So much more.”

          His dark heart swelled with more love than he’d ever thought imaginable, his hands lifting to cup her beautiful face.  “Oh, Belle … I would have done anything for you, even then.”  His lips met hers softly, reverently.  “I just never thought you’d ever feel _this_ way about me.”

          “Anything?” she purred, her hands trailing over his bare chest to the taut plane of his stomach.  She reveled in the way his muscles contracted under her touch.

          He nodded fervently.  “Anything you desire, my Belle.”

          “This is our last night … here in our home before we leave to begin a whole new future together,” she whispered, holding his gaze.  She knew he didn’t take his promises lightly, and she wanted to make herself as clear as possible.  “I want to spend this night in your arms, Rumpelstiltskin.  I want you to show me how much you love me.”

          “I do love you, Belle … so much, but are you sure?  If you wait until we get to this new land you won’t have to go to bed with a monster.”

          She threaded her fingers in his hair, her gaze soft, warm, but more than a little determined. She was well aware of how he saw himself, but now she needed to show him how she saw him through her own eyes, how she felt about him in her heart of hearts. “You have never been a monster to me, Rumpel … never.  I love _you_ … all that you are … and I want you.”

          He was powerless to resist her as her lips met his.  She enveloped him in her arms, her scent wrapping around him, her love chasing away his fears.  He just prayed he wouldn’t disappoint her.

 

*.*.*

 

          “Regina?  Are you in here?” Snow called as she knocked softly on her stepmother’s door and poked her head inside the queen’s lavishly appointed bedchamber.

          Regina wore a satisfied smirk as she waved Snow into the room.  “Hurry, Snow, or you’re going to miss it!”

          Snow wore a puzzled frown as she hurried across the room, her feet silent on the thick carpet.  She didn’t hesitate to climb onto the immense bed and settle at Regina’s side, but her mouth fell open in shock as she followed the queen’s gaze to the mirror on the wall.  “Is that –“

          “Rumpelstiltskin and his little paramour,” Tink gushed, hugging a pillow to her chest, a winsome smile gracing her lips.  “And about time too!”

          “What’s that girl thinking, going about half dressed?” Regina asked of no one in particular as she sipped from her glass of wine.  “Has she no sense of modesty?  Rumpelstiltskin may be a lot of things, but the poor man has an iron will not to have ravished the dear girl by now.”

          Snow arched a brow at her stepmother.  “As if you were the sole of propriety,” she giggled.

          “Shh, they’re talking about the spell,” the former fairy hushed them.  “He should discover any second –“

          A roar of outrage emitted from the mirror, causing all three women to visibly cringe.  “Oh he doesn’t look at all happy,” Regina said, stating the obvious.

          “Well, we all suspected he’d lose his temper,” Tink said.

          They watched, brows raised as the little maid argued gently with the Dark One and raised up on her toes to kiss him.  Regina gasped as his skin began to waver between the lightly tanned flesh of a man and the mottled green-gold flesh of the sorcerer.

          “No!  She wasn’t supposed to kiss him yet!  He’s going to need his magic for the spell,” she wailed.

          “Wait!” Snow cried.  “Look!  He’s changing back into the Dark One.  Were we wrong about her?”

          Tinkerbell narrowed her gaze on the girl, listening closely to her softly uttered words.  “No, she is in truth his true love.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have begun to change.  She was just smart enough to pull away when she did … to give him the choice.  Oh she’s clever.”

          Regina sat back and drained her glass, relieved their plan hadn’t backfired.  “She’d have to be.  Rumpelstiltskin is no fool.”

          Snow blushed and looked away from the mirror as the Dark One and his maid’s embrace grew more heated.  “Um … we really shouldn’t be watching now.”

          The queen emitted a rather unladylike snort and Tink giggled as the mirror went dark.  It hadn’t taken her long to convince the fairy to spy on Rumpelstiltskin.  Thankfully, the reflective glass in the cut crystal vase on the library’s mantle had worked just as well as a mirror.  “We’ve seen enough anyway.”

          “Yes, they’re going to be so happy together,” Tink sighed, glad she hadn’t been wrong about the mage and his maid.

          Snow rose from the bed with a yawn, ready to return to her own room.  “Well, I’m going to bed.  Charming wants to make an early start of it in the morning.”

          “Are you sure you won’t stay for a few more days?” Regina asked.  Now that she had the chance to really get to know her stepdaughter, she hated to see her return home so soon.

          The ebony haired princess shook her head regretfully.  “I have a wedding to plan and a father in law to thwart.  Busy, busy,” she chuckled.  “But you’re welcome in Longborne anytime, Regina.”

          “I may just have to take you up on that invitation.”  She smiled at Snow as the girl took her leave before turning back to Tink.  “So, do you think Rumpel will find his son in this new land?”

          The fairy rose from the bed, intent on finding her own rest for the evening.  “The coin I gave him tonight will insure that he does.”

          Regina laid back on the mountain of pillows resting against the headboard and sighed, pleased with the turn of events.  Second chances were truly an unexpected gift.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, well, Belle has laid her cards on the table and Rum knows exactly what she wants. Thankfully, he’s willing to give his beloved what she wants. Did you like Regina’s spying? She simply couldn’t help herself, dearies. She had to make sure Rum was on the right track :D Thank you all so much for reading, loves.


	15. Ohh, Dearie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rating just went up, dearies. This chapter includes smut, so here's your warning. If it's not your thing, you can skip it :D

 

          Belle blinked rapidly as she collapsed against Rumpelstiltskin’s chest, her head swimming as her eyes tried to adjust to the muted lighting.  She dragged her lips from his, the wispy purple smoke of his magic receding into nothingness.  A smile curled her mouth as she took in their surroundings, and sat up, pleased to find herself still straddling her lover.  She didn’t like the darkness of their room, however; nor the way his beloved features were cast in shadow.

          “Why is it so dark?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the crackling fire in the hearth.  “I know I left candles burning earlier …”

          “Dark One, dearest … too much light is a distraction,” he said evasively.

          Belle hummed in suspicion, but let the matter drop.  If he wanted to be a shy sorcerer, she’d allow it.  She finally had what she wanted, what he wanted as well … they’d muddle through their issues later, she was certain.  Ignoring the blush riding high on her cheeks – which didn’t seem as if it would ever leave her skin – she reached for the clasps at the front of her peignoir, popping them open one by one.  If it was possible, his eyes grew darker as he watched the velvet and lace slide sensuously over her shoulders, leaving them bare but for the thin straps of her night gown.

          The smile faded from her lips as she noticed his hands fisted so tightly in the bedsheets, a low rumbling growl emitting from behind his clenched teeth.  It grew steadily louder as she leaned over to press her lips to his quivering belly.  “What’s wrong, my love?” she purred silkily, her hands roaming over his chest.

          He held tighter to the bedding as she covered his hands with her own, gently trying to pry them loose.  “Stop!”

          Belle jerked her hands away, and sat up, meeting his panicked gaze with a worried frown.  “Rum, what is it?”

          Rumpelstiltskin pulled himself away from her, pressing his back against the headboard as he tried to regain control over his erratic breathing.  “I’m a-afraid I’m going to hurt you if we continue this,” he hissed, unable to meet her eyes so filled with desire for him.  It would be the finger between his shoulder blades pushing him over the cliff.

          Sympathy shone in her eyes as she scooted closer to him, once more resuming her place on his lap.  There was nowhere left for him to go, and if he were honest, there was nowhere he _wanted_ to be more than there with her.  Again, her hands sought his, her fingertips soft as a dove’s breast as they ghosted over his.  “Touch me, Rumpel,” she cooed, her breath warm against his lips as she closed the distance between them.  She brought his hands to her hips where they fisted the silk of her night gown.  “You’d never hurt me, darling … never.”

          “Gods, Belle, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been touched like this?!  I can’t control … if I hurt you … I’d never forgive myself,” he said, his voice no more than an agonized whisper.

          “You would deny me?”  Her fingers caressed his nape, those of her other hand fisting in his hair.  She was confident he’d never lay a harmful finger on her, much less in the throes of passion.  Since the day he’d brought her to the Dark Castle, he’d been so very careful never to hurt her.  Now would be no different.  “Let me love you, Rumpelstiltskin.”

          He gasped at the light stinging in his scalp, and the demon howled in pleasure as she sucked gently at his lower lip.  It was almost as if she were trying to provoke the darkness within him, as if she truly wanted the beast he was.  Before he could lose what was left of his control, he gripped her upper arms and set her back to sit on his thighs.  She was beautiful, her cerulean eyes gleaming darkly with desire, her lips swollen and glistening from his kisses.  And she _wanted_ _him_.  He groaned as her short nails scratched over his chest, her clever fingers seeking to bring him pleasure.

          “Woman!  Would you cease for just a moment?” the sorcerer growled, trapping her wrists in a gentle grasp.

          That petal soft lower lip disappeared between her teeth as she debated her next move.  Just this once she decided to hold her tongue as she watched him struggling with his inner demon.  The emotions flickering over his weathered face would have been enough to frighten any other woman, but Belle held his heart.  She knew he would overcome his fear … for her.

          Finally, he lifted his tortured gaze to hers.  She could smell the faint traces of ozone which permeated the air with his magic only a moment before he was pressing something into her hands.  Belle frowned warily as she stared down at the dagger in her hands, his name emblazoned on the blade.  She arched a brow, unable to ignore the creeping trickle of magic which slithered its way up her spine. “What’s this?” she asked, her voice sharper than she’d intended, but nothing could have prepared her for the darkness she felt within the relic in her hand.  “What is it, Rumpel?”

          The Dark One was suspiciously silent as Belle’s hand closed over the rugged leather binding on the dagger.  It was testament to the demon’s newfound faith in her that he wasn’t howling for her blood.  He could feel his host’s deep profound love for the girl, but he could also feel her own darkness mixed in with her light.  She was like a drug and he only wanted more.

          “It’s the source of my power, my curse,” Rumpelstiltskin answered honestly, left with no choice.  “With it, you control me.  With this dagger, you can command me not to hurt you.  This way you will be safe.”

          Anger welled up in her chest, nearly choking her.  She regarded him through narrowed eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line.  “You wish for me to use this on you?  To take away your free will?”

          At his fervent nod, she stabbed the razor sharp tip of the blade into the cherry wood of the headboard.  It quivered with a soft twang as he stared up at it in horror, his heart racing.  “Belle!”

          Belle crossed her arms over her chest to keep from smacking him.  “How did you ever survive three centuries as the Dark One?” she asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

          “I beg your pardon?” he gaped at her.  _Did she just insult me?_

          “You can be so thick!” she scoffed, shaking her head.  _Yes, she was definitely insulting him._ “Rumpelstiltskin, what would ever possess you to just hand over that dagger … to _anyone_?!”

          “I can assure you, dearie, I’ve never entrusted it to another soul in my long existence.  I can see now it was a mistake –“

          She leaned forward and cupped his face in her warm palms, her lips brushing his.  “I don’t want to control you, Rumpel, never.”  She laid her hand over his heart.  “Every word, every deed … every touch … I want it to come from here.”  She changed tactics on him quickly.  Now, in his arms, in their bed, was not the time to dissuade him from what they were about.  “Would you want to control me?”

          “No!”

          “If you controlled me, how would you know what my honest feelings for you were as opposed to what you commanded of me?” she asked, trying to make him see.

          His hands smoothed over her back in a gentle caress as she wrapped her arms about his neck.  “I love you, Belle,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.  “I just …”

          She pressed her brow to his, nuzzling her nose against his own as she felt him begin to relax in her embrace.   “I know, my love.”  She nibbled softly at his lips.  “Don’t be afraid to touch me.  I’m not made of glass; I won’t break.  Make love to me; show me what’s in your heart.”

          No force in the seven realms could have kept the smile from lighting her eyes as he pulled her closer, his lips slanting hungrily over hers.  His kiss was sweet, tender, and filled with love, and she reveled in it.  He tasted of tea and cake with a hint of musky darkness which made her head swim with desire.  She knew she’d never grow tired of kissing him, not after being denied for so long.  Her body was pulled flush with his, her knees on either side of his slim hips, her breasts pressed into the hard plane of his chest.  It was hard to concentrate on any one sensation as they all combined to consume her.

          He was similarly affected by their embrace, his breaths heavy as he withdrew his mouth from hers.  His hand lifted tentatively, a warm golden glow encompassing his fingers as he laid it over her heart.  She gasped.  There were no words for the feeling of his magic sweeping through her veins.  It was strong, primal and more powerful than seven suns.  “Is this what you wanted, dear one?” he asked brokenly, the sensation no less keen in his own body.  “To feel what’s in my heart for you?”

          The blood pounded in her ears as the magic swept through her.  Every one of her nerve endings burned with him.  It claimed her, branding her as his. She could feel tears fall unbidden from her lashes in salty hot trails over her cheeks, unable to hold them back.  He was showing her the depths of his love, and she’d never felt anything so meaningful and profound.  Her own heart swelled.  Every decision she’d made in regards to her master since coming to the Dark Castle had been worth any pain she’d suffered.  It was _his_ memories flooding her mind and body.  The distrust he’d had towards her, slowing giving way to friendship.  The ache of longing as he’d begun to love her.  Everything she’d experienced, he’d felt it too, a hundredfold.  Whereas she’d been confident he’d come to love her, he’d despaired of her ever feeling such a powerful emotion for him in return.  Sharing this most intimate revelation … It was the most selfless gift he could ever have given her.

          Belle collapsed against his chest, weeping openly.  “I love you,” she vowed, her voice barely more than a whisper.  Slowly, she raised her watery gaze to his, seeing he was equally affected by what he’d shared with her.  “Thank you … for showing me.”

          His fingers buried themselves in her hair, his palms cradling her face as he brought her closer.  “You’ve brought warmth and light into my life, Belle.”  He kissed her tenderly, relishing the way her lips molded so perfectly to his.  “You showed me what it was like to love … to _be_ loved.  I could never have imagined it would be this way when you promised me _forever_.”

          Her eyes darkened, so overwhelmed with emotion she felt as if she were seconds away from breaking apart.  She’d been gifted with the Dark One, with Rumpelstiltskin, her quirky master, and she’d be blessed with loving him forever … every day of forever to show him just how special he truly was.  “Forever,” she whispered reverently, leaning in to claim his lips.  “Mine.”

          Rumpelstiltskin shivered despite the warmth in the room.  Darkness and light swirled within him, a perfect balance to anchor his focus on the precious woman in his arms.  He melted into her embrace, giving her free reign to have everything he could give.  She purred as his hands settled on her thighs, his nails leaving little paths along her flesh.  She mewled as they moved beneath the fine silk of her gown over her hips.  And she keened as his fingertips brushed the soft pink lace at the apex of her thighs.  Every sound from her throat showed him how appreciative she was of his attentions, and it spurred him on.

          Frenzied, primal need coiled in his belly and hummed beneath his skin, his hands ghosting over her hips, and along her sides, steadily lifting the silk away from her skin.  She broke their kiss so she could let him pull the garment over her head.  She was breathless and flushed from his touch, and she’d never been more beautiful to him than in that moment of fevered passion.  His gaze wandered over her soft curves and alabaster skin, and once again he wondered what he’d ever done to deserve his goddess.  He wanted nothing more than to worship her as was fitting.  She was glorious and she was his.  He could have wept.

          Belle’s eyes sparkled with unbridled desire as she held his gaze, her hands roaming over his shoulders, her nails bringing intense pleasure wherever they passed over him.  She shifted her hips impatiently, gasping as his leather covered erection came in contact with her core.  He hissed sharply at the contact, and a slow smile began at the corner of her mouth.  Again, she moved over him, grinding down with more pressure, and his tortured moan mingled with her own.

          His arms tightened around her, roughly dragging her closer, his lips finding the sweet curve of her neck.  He pressed her down, holding her hips in a firm grasp that would surely bear evidence to bruises come dawn’s first light.  She emitted a guttural sound he didn’t think she was capable of as his teeth scraped over her collarbone.  “More!” she cried, her hands delving into his curly locks to hold him in place.

          His Belle was just as greedy in her desire as he was, and he would give her whatever she wanted as long as she continued to make those wonderfully erotic sounds in the back of her throat.  Her pleasure was something he wanted more than anything.  His callused hands mapped a path over her ribs, reaching ever higher as his lips trailed lower.  She cried out, her hips moving faster now against him, pleasure spiraling out to her fingers and toes as his thumbs brushed over her turgid nipples.  Her fingers tightened in his unruly locks, her soul surrendering to her beloved.

          Rumpelstiltskin groaned as he buried his face between her breasts, losing himself in her softness.  She was nearly as wild in her passion as the demon he hosted.  Any inhibitions she might have had, deserted her completely in the wake of her desire.  The fears he’d had of hurting her were no longer a worry to him.  He was more likely to be physically hurt by her.  He growled softly as his lips covered one pert nipple, his tongue rasping softly over the bud before pressing it tightly to the roof of his mouth.  Gods, she tasted exquisite.  Headier than the finest wine, and sweeter than peach tarts.  His name on her lips music to his ears.

          Her eyes glowed like twin sapphires, filled with a mix of desire and unwavering trust as he gripped her hips tightly and laid her gently back against the duvet.  She gasped, a soft moan slipping from her as his rough palm came to rest against her belly, his thumb teasing at the lace below her navel.  “Rum … please,” she whispered fervently, her hips lifting of their own accord to beg for his touch.

          The mage brought his lips back to hers, the heat firing his blood leaving his kiss far from gentle as he tugged at the ribbons at her hips.  She met him with equal fervor, her teeth nipping sharply at his lower lip.  The delicious pressure continued to pool in her belly, the ache, the fire, the yearning she felt causing her to whimper softly.  And then he touched her, stars bursting behind her eyes as his warm wonderful fingers came in contact with her wet folds.

          His lips sucked teasingly at the sensitive spot where her jaw met her ear.  “ _My_ Belle … my precious love, so wet for me,” he purred, delving into her heat, his thumb circling her clit in slow deliberate strokes.  One finger slid into her, and he pressed his tumescent cock against her hip to relieve some of the ache as she clenched around him.

          “Yours,” she cried in answer to his possessive claim.

          Rumpelstiltskin sucked in a deep breath as she pushed him onto his back, his eyes heavily lidded as he stared up at the wild abandon written so clearly on her beautiful face.  She scratched a path of fire from his shoulders to his waist with her sharp little nails, and it was his turn to arch into her touch and shout her name with reckless disregard for his pride.  He was hers and didn’t care if he could be heard all the way to the infinite forest.  Her lips followed the path her nails had scored in his green-gold flesh, and he could feel her smile against the taut plane of his stomach as her fingers worked the gold buttons on his trousers.

          “Belle …” he moaned in surrender, his head falling wearily against the luxurious bedding, unable to mumble anything more coherent in his current state of desire.

          Boldly, she cupped him through the leather as she traced the circumference of his navel with her tongue.  He bucked against her, his formidable control disintegrating beneath her artless touch.  She worked the tight leather over his hips, her lips peppering his skin with the lightest of kisses from groin to knee.  She could only be thankful she didn’t have to rid him of his boots.  She caught his startled gaze with a dark look as her mouth curled into a wicked grin.

          “Y-You wouldn’t,” he stuttered as her nails dragged along his inner thighs.

          Belle pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his right knee.  “I wouldn’t?” she asked, her teeth grazing high on his sensitive flesh. 

          He watched her, mesmerized as her tongue darted out to trace the length of his cock, her thumb reaching out to swirl over his tip to spread the bead of moisture which awaited her there.  His eyes rolled back in his head and he could swear his heart stopped.  The beast within him howled, calling to his mate, wailing his approval.  She smiled against his heated flesh, waiting until he looked down at her, her lips poised and ready.  And then he was sliding into the warm wet recesses of her mouth, her tongue a silken caress, her teeth a hint of pain amidst the indescribable pleasure radiating throughout his body.

          “Woman!”

          She chuckled lowly, the vibrations against his throbbing length nearly sending him on a quick descent into madness.  She released him with a soft pop only to give him a slow lick from root to tip, her fingers wrapping tightly around him before she moved up his body to kiss him tenderly.  She couldn’t help the slow satisfaction coiling in her chest as she looked down at the disheveled wreck of her beloved.  “Say it,” she murmured against his lips, her hand giving a slow pull.

          His dark eyes, black but for their warm ring of amber slowly lifted to meet hers, pleading within their depths.  “I love you.”

          Another tug from her hand accompanied with a twist of her wrist.  “Again.”

          “I love you.  Please, Belle …” he whimpered passionately.

          Belle released him, allowing him a moment to catch his breath as she cradled his face in her hands and pressed her brow to his.  “As I love you, my darling.  Whatever life may bring; I will _always_ love you.”  She brushed her lips to his, feeling the swell of true love just beneath the surface.  “My life, my body, my heart and soul … forever yours.”

          Their kiss grew frantic as he rolled them over, her body arching into his as his hand disappeared between her legs.  She pulled at his shoulders, reveling at the play of muscle beneath his warm skin, yet he still resisted, wanting to make sure she wouldn’t be harmed by his untempered passion.  She keened beneath his touch, her hips bucking with a will of their own, desperate for completion.

          “Rumpel …”

          It was that pleading note in her voice which drove him, his own desire riding him hard, unable to deny her any longer.  He groaned as he settled between her velvety thighs and placed himself at her entrance, her legs rising in silent approval to wrap about his hips, welcoming him home.  So hot and unbearably wet, she was, and he was forced to bite down on his lip as her heels dug into his arse, urging him forward.  He buried his face against her throat as he slid into her, not wanting to see the look of discomfort in her eyes as he took her maidenhead.

          Belle smiled against his temple as he whispered soothing nonsense into the shell of her ear.  She drew in a ragged breath as he filled her.  “Shh, love,” she whispered.  “You feel so incredibly good.”

          He lifted his head, his lips parted on a silent gasp of surprise.  “I didn’t hurt you?”

          She was sure she looked more like the cat who’d lapped the last drop of cream.  Shaking her head, she shifted her hips, lifting them to take even more of him until his groin was flush with hers.  Her mild discomfort had passed quickly, and she wanted nothing more than to sate her curiosity along with the fire in her belly.  He caught her moan on his lips as he withdrew slowly before thrusting back in.  Her nails were just short of shredding his back as he set up a gentle rhythm, proving to her that he could be tender and loving instead of the beast he was purported to be.  He reveled in her soft moans and quiet gasps as he drove her farther and higher up the precipice.

          He knew it would be the closest he’d ever come to heaven.  To feel her soft curves pressed so tightly to his lean angles, her heat enveloping him, driving him on with mindless passion, her sweet husky whisper begging for more, harder, faster, _please_!  Her petal soft lips rounded into a perfect ‘o’ of pleasure as she began to convulse around him, and then finally broke apart with his name falling from the tip of her sweet pink tongue.  Fire, white hot light and electricity crackled along his spine, wrapping around him and blinding him with the intensity of his own climax.

          She breathed heavily, her legs tightening about him as his strength failed him, and he collapsed atop her.  Her fingers carded through the soft hair at his temple, and he couldn’t remember a time in his life in which he’d felt more sated and replete, or more at peace.  He pressed a tender kiss to her throat, unable to find the words to tell her what he felt at that moment in his dark heart.

          And in the end, there was no need for words.  They’d shown one another more than any words could ever convey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, I hope it was worth the wait :D So, next time: Belle packs, Rumpel brews, there’s a proposal and well i can't give it all away, now can I? I hope you all enjoyed. Thanks so much for reading!!


	16. True Love is Unconditional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is rather smutty :D But then, that really shouldn’t surprise anyone.

         

          Belle scrunched her nose in irritation as her fingers searched the cool sheets next to her.  In that wonderful space between dreaming and waking, she knew something was off even if she were unable to discern exactly what.  Memories of hours spent in her Rumpel’s arms sent a delicious thrill curling along her spine and her eyes flying open in search of his warm body.  Instead of finding him, her gaze encountered a piece of folded parchment and a single red rose.  A slow smile bloomed on her lips as she unfolded the note and began to read.

 

_Beloved –_

_Please forgive my absence, but I wanted to begin preparations for this evening and our imminent departure.  Only that could have wrested me away from you, my love.  I took the liberty of running a bath for you.  The water will remain hot until you avail yourself of it.  It will help soothe aching muscles and help to relax you.  If you’re of a mind to join me for breakfast afterward, please come to me in the library.  I hope you slept well, my darling.  I look forward to your company._

_\--Rum_

          She should have known nothing aside from their quest would have been able to drag him away from their cozy bed.  A groan escaped her lips as she wrapped the sheet around her and swung her legs over the side of the bed, muscles she didn’t know existed protesting her every movement.  The bathing chamber which adjoined her room was already filled with steam, but because of his magic, there was no way to tell how long her bath had been awaiting her.  A giggle escaped her smiling lips as she noticed a vial of bright pink liquid sitting on the edge of the claw foot tub, resting atop a small note which read ‘use me’.  She could only begin to guess what wonders it contained, but she removed the stopper and poured the oily liquid into the already scented water.

          Belle discarded the sheet and slipped into the tub with a sigh, the temperature just right to soothe her aching muscles.  Only when she’d settled did her sorcerer’s gift begin to work its magic, creeping along her skin in a silken caress and sinking deep into her tissues to soothe away her aches and pains, leaving her lethargic and rather sleepy.  There was no time, however, for her to return to her bed for a nap.  Rumpelstiltskin was awaiting her and she was more than a bit anxious to see him.

          It didn’t take her long to finish her bath and choose a mint green day dress from her wardrobe, tiny pink roses embroidered along the hem and cuffs which draped elegantly over the tops of her hands.  It was one of her favorites and she hadn’t missed the appreciative gleam in her sorcerer’s eyes when she’d worn it for him the first time, his gaze drawn to her trim waist and low décolletage.  It made her feel soft and feminine, womanly in the face of his armor.  The bits of fabric and lace seemed to bolster her courage to proceed with her endeavor to have him, where her simple blue and white work dress did not.

          Silently, her silk-slippered feet carried her down the long corridors and to the library door where she paused – a hand to her bosom – to catch her breath.  Whether due to her haste or excitement to see him, she wasn’t quite sure.  She just knew she couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d been happier.  Belle managed to stifle the giggle lingering there at the back of her throat as she crept across the room to where he stood at his workbench, carefully observing his actions as he added ingredients to the pewter cauldron, and took a seat on his stool, pulling off the dragonhide gloves and tossing them aside.

          A manic giggle escaped the Dark One’s lips as his Belle’s arms wound about his neck from behind and her petal soft lips nipped lightly at his ear.  “It’s about time you came down, dearie.  I was afraid you were going to sleep the day away.”

          “Pfft,” she scoffed as he took her hands in his and drew her to stand between his legs as he turned on his stool to face her.  “Surely, it’s not that late.”

          “I’ve begun the potion, Belle, which means it’s just past noon.  Twelve hours until our departure.”  He chuckled at her astonishment and then again when her lip disappeared between her pearly teeth.  “Did you rest well, my love?” he asked, pulling her tightly against him.  He nuzzled against her neck, his lips teasing the sensitive flesh below her right ear.

          Belle hummed her pleasure, her own teasing fingers toying with the ends of his hair.  “Amazingly well, thank you.”  She leaned in at his urging, giving herself over to a lingering kiss which curled her toes and left her breathless.  “And as much as I enjoyed my bath, I missed you this morning.”

          Rumpelstiltskin abandoned his perch and pulled her over to the settee and onto his lap.  His large amber eyes were luminous and filled with heartfelt emotion as he met her gaze.  “I promise … I promise it will be the last time you ever have to wake without me at your side.”

          “I love you, Rumpel,” she whispered against his lips, her turn to kiss him senseless.  “You may have to make an honest woman of me, however.  We wouldn’t want to set a wrong example for Baelfire.”  When he didn’t respond, she slipped off of his lap and busied herself with the tea service on the table.  “I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to seem forward … I –“ She trailed off, cursing silently under her breath.

          “Belle –“

          “I didn’t mean for it to sound as though I were fishing for a proposal.  It doesn’t matter to me if I’m your wife or your maid or the girl who sweeps out the stables.  I just want to be with you.”  _Bloody wonderful, Belle.  No easier way to chase him out the door than trying to wrest a proposal from him.  Why don’t I just throw myself naked at his feet? Wait … I did that already. UGH!_

          “And I’ll never understand why,” he murmured, his hands curling over her shoulders to coax her back into his arms, “but I’ll be forever grateful.”  He brushed away her tears, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.  With his free hand he delved into the pocket of his frock coat, removing the simple ruby solitaire from within, the many faceted stone flanked by a small square-cut diamond on either side.  The faintest of smiles graced his lips as she looked down and then quickly swung her gaze back to his, hope alight in her cerulean eyes.  “It’s yours, dearest … _I’m_ yours … if you’ll have me, because I want nothing more than to be your husband.”

          “Yes!” she cried, flinging her arms about him and burying her face against his throat.  “I would be honored to have you for my husband.”

          Rumpelstiltskin lifted her back onto his lap, her skirts settling around them as her knees straddled his hips, his arms wrapping securely about her waist.  “I was hoping you’d say yes.  Jefferson should be here within the hour with the friar from the village to marry us.”

          “Rumpel!  I’ve nothing to wear,” she gasped in surprise.

          “What you have on is fine, sweetheart,” he assured her.  His lips trailed along the lacy bodice of her dress and he smiled as he felt her melt into his embrace.  “More than fine for a simple ceremony.  You could wear a sack and I wouldn’t care.  I just want you joined to me and a certificate in hand proving to anyone who asks that you’re well and truly mine.”

          She was a bit breathless when she answered.  “Then I’ll make sure I include it when I pack our things.”  Not that she could think about making a mental list of the things she needed to pack when his mouth was paying homage to so much exposed skin and creating a fire in her belly which desperately yearned to be quenched.

          He slid his hands along her sides in a slow caress as his hot mouth worried the delicate line of her clavicle.  She sighed blissfully, her nails digging into the brocade covering his upper arms, pulling him closer.  A low growl erupted from his throat as she squeezed his hips between her slender thighs and rubbed her aching core against his arousal.  He hadn’t meant to let things go so far.  There were still numerous things to do before they would be ready to depart, but one glimpse of the desire burning in her iolite gaze, one touch of her hand sneaking beneath his coat to tweak at his heated flesh, and the warmth of her womanhood burning him through his trousers had all thought fleeing from his logical mind and leaving him a twisted mass of lust.

          Belle grinned wickedly as his teeth tugged at the ribbon between her breasts, loosening her stays enough for her bodice to give way to his questing hands, and he was able to slide the soft fabric of her dress – as well as the silken straps of her shift – over her shoulders.  His eyes closed as he buried his nose in the valley between her breasts, breathing her in.  Her fingers carded through the hair at his temple, her gaze missing nothing as she watched him.  It was almost as if he were caught in a spell of his own making and she, one of his priceless treasures.

          Her fingers trailed over his mottled skin with its sheen of gold just beneath the surface, so soft under her touch, lifting his face from her breast to meet her gaze as his hands wandered her back.  “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered reverently, ignoring the doubt in his patronizing gaze.

          Rumpelstiltskin’s lips turned up in a half-moon grin.  “I’ve been called a lot of things, my love, but never beautiful.”

          Her lips found his, capturing the lower one between her own in a gentle kiss.  “Because no one thought to look beneath your giggles and sneering countenance.  They couldn’t see beyond the beast.”  She moved her hips in a slow rocking circle, drawing a gasp from her lover.  “But I adore my beast.” Her eyes darkened and her voice lowered in register.  “I rather like to think you saved your heart for me, just waiting for me to come along to claim it.”

          His ardor grew, his long spinner’s fingers working their way along her ribs, higher to cup her breasts and tease the turgid peaks with his thumbs.  Her head fell back as a wave of unadulterated bliss spread through her body to settle in her aching womb, causing her to clench her thighs and grind herself against him.  “Yours,” he hissed vehemently before his hot mouth closed over her nipple, her soft cries going straight to his groin.

          “Mine!  Always!” she swore, her hands losing themselves in his thick curls, holding him to her as his teeth nipped at her flesh.

          Her nails trailed over the taut tendons in his neck as he fought to maintain his tenuous control, over his shoulders beneath his open collar, reveling in the texture of his skin.  She would miss the green gold hue of his flesh when they arrived in the new land.  She was torn.  She would miss his extraordinary uniqueness, but on the other hand, she was curious as to how he would look as a normal human man.  Either way, her heart was engaged, and it really wouldn’t matter.

          His hand crept beneath her skirt and petticoats, and she cried out at the feeling of his sharp talons along the soft sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.  The other closed over her throat, the gentlest of pressure causing her eyes to fly open and seek his gaze.  She stared at him, her lower lip trembling as she met the blackened gaze of the demon calmly watching her.  “Tell me, dearie,” he commanded in a deceptively soft tone, “do you think you’ve tamed the Dark One?  Is that your game?”

          Belle licked her lips, his eyes flicking to the darting path of her tongue with interest.  She shifted her hips, seeking out his touch, urging him to move his hand where she wanted it so badly as she leaned her full weight trustingly into the hand wrapped around her throat.  “Don’t you _want_ to be mine, my beloved sorcerer?” she purred silkily, arching a brow as she studied him.  It would be so very easy for him to crush her throat and end her, but she was confident – literally placing her life in his hands – he wouldn’t.  “You own my heart … it’s only fair that I should own yours, isn’t it?”

          His right eye twitched minutely in irritation as he inched closer, enjoying the moment of freedom to toy with the girl.  “Ahh, but, precious, you need to remember I don’t have one.  It’s the spinner’s heart you’ve claimed so resolutely,” he snarled, his breath hot against her cheek as his lips ghosted over her jaw.  “I’m all about impulse and dark desire.”

          She shrieked in alarm as his hand briefly cupped her sex, his fingers gentle as they slipped beneath the lace of her knickers and then roughly ripped the garment from her body.  He giggled lewdly as he whipped them from beneath her voluminous skirts and tossed them over his shoulder to land on the floor behind the settee.  He’d managed to shock her – something he wasn’t aware was possible.  Nothing ever seemed to faze her or shake her obdurate courage.

          His smug smile melted from his lips as her eyes narrowed with determination and her hands crept between them to the lacings of his leather trousers.  He growled as her little hand reached inside the confines and wrapped around his aching cock, his teeth bared with barely restrained control as his eyes slammed shut and his head fell back against the cushions.  The hand about her throat slid to her nape as he dragged her against his chest, his mouth crashing over hers as he sought to show her she did indeed belong to him.  Not just the spinner, no … after centuries of loneliness, she belonged to the darkness as well.

          She moaned throatily as his teeth nipped sharply at her lower lip, tasting copper.  His lust, his passion, only fueled her own, her head swimming with desire.  Her hand stilled for only a moment as she felt him tentatively explore her folds, his thumb pressing hard against her clit.  It made her breath catch and her concentration falter, giving way to pure sensation.  The hand in her hair tightened, pulling her head back, and his tongue trailed hotly down her throat, his teeth biting roughly at the crook of her neck before soothing it with his lips and tongue.  Her hand resumed its controlled torture of his own heated flesh as they battled for dominance, and a sharp twist of her wrist had him gasping and growling against her breasts.

          “Take me,” she cried.  “Claim me!”

          He hesitated only a moment, his eyes raking the wrecked visage of his beloved before his hands slid beneath the sweet swell of her arse and lifted her, her own hand guiding him to her tender opening.  She keened, opening herself wide to take him all in.  She stared down at him with a worried frown as he whimpered, his eyes clear of the darkness and quickly filling with shame.  “Oh, Belle …  Belle, I’m –“

          “Stop!” she commanded gently, quickly cutting him off with a finger to his lips.  “I need you to move now, Rum … please.”  She reinforced her desire by tightening her inner muscles as she slowly raised herself.  “Don’t think, love … just feel.”

          Rumpelstiltskin – despite the guilt he was feeling for allowing the demon to escape his control – could deny her nothing, his hands steady on her hips to help guide her.  He surrendered to her will as she rode his cock, her velvety tissues a sinful caress against him.  Her lovely features twisted into a grimace of pleasure as she slowly climbed the precipice, long slow deep strokes which had him biting his lip as she brought him with her.  And then it wasn’t enough as she faltered, her inner walls fluttering madly.  Her arms wrapped around his neck, her panting breath hot against his ear as his hips rose to meet hers.  He drove quickly, erratically within her, reaching ever deeper to bring her to the brink.  She shattered, her cries echoing against the vaulted ceiling.  He grew impossibly harder with each thrust, her core tightening and convulsing around him.  His nails shredded the fabric of her gown, the fire roared violently in the hearth, and several vials of cordials exploded on his worktable as his own climax shuddered through him, leaving him spent.

          Belle rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers carding gently through his hair, soothing him as only she was able as he slowly came down from his high.  “Are you alright?” she asked, peppering his jaw with kisses.

          “I’m sorry, Belle.  I never meant to let him out.  Please forgive me,” he pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose because he was afraid to see accusation in her eyes.

          She arched her back, pressing herself even closer to his chest with a purr of pure pleasure.  “I love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she nestled into his neck.

          “Belle?”

          “Stop apologizing, my love.  You’ve done nothing wrong.”

          “But –“

          Belle sighed, realizing she wouldn’t be able to savor the moment as long as he was condemning himself for his actions.  “Rumpelstiltskin, that was the most wonderful bout of love-making I’ve ever – or probably will ever – experience in my life.”

          “Which is a grand total of two at present count,” he drawled.

          “Hush,” she admonished.  “Just don’t belittle it, please.”

          “But, Belle, I lost control and let the demon free –“

          She groaned as he softened enough to slip out of her, bemoaning the loss of intimacy.  “Rumpel, your darkness is a part of you, and I _love_ all of you.  You cannot be expected to rein it in _all_ the time.”

          He still wasn’t pleased with his lack of control, nor with the demon’s smug satisfaction.  “Well, hopefully in a land devoid of magic I won’t have to worry about him slipping his leash again.”

          Belle shook her head.  “You’re not going to obsess because I enjoy both sides of your personality, are you?”

          He didn’t answer, turning his head away to avoid her gaze.

          “Rumpel!”

          He grimaced.  “It’s just hard to believe you like that side of me, Belle.”  His arms tightened about her waist to keep her in place when she huffed and tried to move off of his lap.  “Let me ask you something.”

          She cast him a curious look as his features cleared a bit.  “Alright.”

          “For a maiden, you are the boldest little wanton I’ve ever encountered.  Have you … er …” he stammered.  “Have you ever …”

          “Had sex?” she giggled when his cheeks flushed golden.  “Of course not … as you well know.”

          “Then … ?”

          Belle grinned and rolled her eyes, bemused by what she was going to tell him.  “I know you remember the man I was betrothed to … the lumbering ox who tried to hide me behind him that day in my father’s war room.”

          One side of his upper lip curled into a sneer.  “Oh I remember, alright.”

          “Well, we didn’t hit it off when he was introduced to me.  He was rather put off by my intelligence.  He didn’t believe I should spend so much time with my nose in a book,” she said disdainfully.  “Of course that only made me want to receive him in my library when he deigned to visit me.”

          “I bet he loved that,” the imp snorted.

          “Indeed,” she agreed, chuckling softly.  “Well, the time was inching closer and closer to our wedding day, the ogres were encroaching and Gaston was forced to spend more time on the front lines.  Somehow, he still managed to send little gifts now and then even if he wasn’t able to come himself to see me.”  She pressed a kiss to the fluttering beat of his pulse beneath his jaw, smiling mischievously as his cock twitched against her with interest.  “One of his gifts was a book.  I was quite delighted, thinking he’d finally sent something I could enjoy.”

          “He’d finally come around to accepting your passion for reading and knowledge?” he asked in surprise.

          “Not even,” she said dejectedly, her ire rising.  “There was a note scrawled inside the front cover.  _Belle, since you’re so passionate about reading, I think this book will help you be equally passionate about our wedding night._ I swear, once I perused the illustrations, I was scandalized.  I didn’t even want to think about doing those things with him.”

          Rumpelstiltskin clenched his teeth, his eyes narrowing menacingly.  “What book?”

          “The title escapes me,” she evaded.

          “Belle …”

          “Truly, I don’t recall,” she caviled, her wide blue eyes catching his gaze.

          He didn’t believe her for a second.  With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the bronze vase from the table in the Great Hall where it had held the rose he’d given her for months.  “Shall I transform him back into himself and ask _him?_ ” he asked, uncaring that she should find out his secret.

          “Rumpelstiltskin, you didn’t!”

          “The title, if you please, Belle,” he repeated. 

          “You can’t leave him like this!”

          “Tell me the name of the book, and I’ll send him back to Avonlea none the worse for wear, and with no memory of the his last few months spent as a rose,” he offered generously.

          “Promise?”

          “Yes … and you know I always honor my deals.”

          “Very well.  _The King’s Concubine,_ ” she murmured, a heated blush suffusing her face and neck.

          With a snap of his fingers, the book appeared in his hand.  And not just any copy of the book, but the copy she’d hidden beneath the loose floorboard in her bedroom in her father’s castle so no one would ever suspect her of having it.  “What surprises me, dearest,” he said, his eyes widening as he took in some of the depravities illustrated in the weathered tome, “is that you didn’t toss it straightaway into the fire.”

          “I was curious,” she staunchly defended.

          “And you found certain things –“

          “Highly arousing.”  She bit her lip as heat flared in his eyes and she could feel him hardening against her once more.

          “Aren’t you supposed to wait until _after_ the ceremony for such things,” drawled a lazy voice from the open doorway.  “Such delicious debauchery.  I’m rather glad I asked the good friar to wait downstairs.”

          Rumpelstiltskin sent a glare at the intruder hot enough to burn him to ash as he whipped the tartan blanket off the back of the settee and covered the bare expanse of Belle’s back.  “Too bad you didn’t wait with him, Hatter!”

          “And miss seeing the Dark One all vulnerable and spent?” he chuckled, pushing his hat further back on his head.  “Not a chance.”  He ducked the fireball.  “Is there any tea left?”

 

 

 

         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, really I can’t remember who requested Jefferson, but here he is :D And next time we can look forward to lots of things … a wedding (don’t expect much), fairies, the hatter, Rum being Rum and Belle holding him together as they prepare to leave. Sorry it’s taken me so long to post. Have a lot of stuff going on. Even an idea for an original work. Anywho, I really hope you all enjoyed!! 
> 
> If you haven’t yet, check out The Spinner’s Wife verse I’m co-authoring with Ethereal Wishes (my dear sweet friend). It can be found on both FFnet and AO3.


	17. New Beginnings

*

          Rumpelstiltskin glared at the hatter – the closest he’d ever had to a friend if he were going to be honest with himself – as the man casually moved to the little sitting area and flopped down into a chair, tossing his hat onto the coffee table.  Belle giggled as she snuggled closer to her betrothed and rested her head on his shoulder.  He was going to have to speak with her about inappropriate responses.  Shouldn’t she be blushing furiously and beating a hasty retreat to the door, her modesty compromised?  He pulled the blanket up to cover her shoulders and briefly thought of magicking her to her room.

          Jefferson winked at her.   “I’d ask how you are, sweetling,” he addressed Belle, “but I can see by the beautiful blush on your cheeks you’re indeed quite well.”

          “Do. You. Mind?!” the Dark One growled, his displeasure evident in each word he enunciated clearly.

          The hatter’s smile widened.  “O’course not,” he said innocently.  He then proceeded to ignore them both as he set about preparing himself a cup of tea.

          “Out!” he bellowed, losing what little patience he’d had.  Belle shifted her lower body against him and he hissed, his eyes widening as they swung back to meet her innocent gaze.

          “Play nice,” she admonished softly against his ear.  She wiggled her fingers.  “Might you magic our clothes back on, darling?”

          Jefferson, having heard her whispered words, snorted into his tea.  “It would probably help with the blush riding him.”

          Rumpelstiltskin sent a patented death glare in his friend’s direction, but his words were for his beloved.  “I think I would be more comfortable paying the price of the magic if I could turn him into a snail.”

          Belle covered his hand with hers as he lifted it in readiness to release the spell.  “No, Rum.  We need a witness for the ceremony.”

          Jefferson spluttered at the dark innuendo in her tone, and set his cup down as he bounded to his feet.  His lovely bejeweled hands came to rest on his hips as he stared down at her.  “Well, I like that!” he said, affronted.

          Belle snorted. “Pfft.  You know very well I’m only teasing.”

          The hatter looked over at the sorcerer who stared smugly at the girl wrapped securely in his arms.  He really was a bad influence on the little princess, and her appreciation for his dark humor grew more and more every day.  It was clear they would enjoy ganging up on him.  He shook his head as he reached for the last tea cake, hoping the sweet would help curb his wayward tongue.

          Rumpelstiltskin brushed an errant curl behind Belle’s ear before a loud snap of his fingers sounded in the room and their clothes had been set to rights.  “Go on, dearest.  Freshen up a bit and then we’ll go down together to meet with the friar, yes?”

          He set her on her feet, but she was loath to release him.  Her arms slipped around his waist, her face upturned to his.  “I love you, Rum.”  She gave him a gentle squeeze, waved to the hatter and disappeared out the door.  The love-struck expression on his weathered features lingered for a long moment before he moved to his workbench and added another ingredient to the cauldron.

          Jefferson – never one to be still with his boundless energy – sauntered over to join his friend, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.  “Well, well, I see you wasted no time in claiming your little maid.”  He slapped a hand over his heart, the back of his other hand pressed to his brow dramatically.  “True love,” he sighed in a dreamy tone.

          Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes.

          “Oh, don’t be like that, Rumpel.  I’m really happy for you.”  His brow furrowed as he toyed with one of the instruments on the table.  “But there’s something which confuses me.”

          The sorcerer reached out and snatched the pincers from Jefferson’s hands.  “Give me that!  How many times do I have to warn you not to mess with my things!?”  He went back to his work.  “What is it that has you in a conundrum, dearie?” he asked, his tone laden with weary tolerance.

          The hatter’s brows rose, his lips pursing as he waited for the Dark One’s full attention.  It didn’t take long to gain it.  “Why are there fairies outside the castle gates?  I was certain the wards would have warned you.”

          “Hell!”  Without another word, he was off to investigate.

 

*.*.*

 

          “Friar Tuck,” Belle greeted the monk with a bright smile.  When Rumpelstiltskin had first begun allowing her to accompany him to the market in the small village under his control, the short rotund clergyman had been one of the few who’d refrained from shunning her for her association with the Dark One.  “Thank you so much for coming all the way up the mountain.  I know how you dislike venturing too far from the village.”

          Tuck glared at the hatter over her shoulder where the tall elegant milliner idly paced before the hearth.  “When that one told me why I was being summoned to the castle, of course I had to come, my dear,” he said, once more returning his attention to her.  “I had to see for myself this wasn’t some trick.”

          Belle’s brows disappeared somewhere near her hairline.  “What?! NO!  Why would it be a trick?” she asked, confused.  Something was definitely off about the poor man if he believed her sorcerer wanting to marry her was odd.

          “Lady Belle, he’s the Dark One.  He’s not known for his generous nature or acts of kindness.”  He waved a hand before him, gesturing in her direction.  “You, on the other hand, are a soul of charity and grace.  How could you want to tie yourself – “ He lowered his voice, a shiver traversing his spine as he looked about him in fear.  “ – to such evil?”

          The lady of the Dark Castle smiled patiently at the middle aged monk, one elegant brow arched.  “Friar, it’s quite simple, really.  I love him … as he loves me.  We wish to share our lives with one another, and instead of living in a state of sin – according to your god – he wishes to honor me.  So, I’ll ask again … how could that possibly be a trick?”

          Jefferson’s brows shot up.  Never, in all the time he’d known the girl, had he ever heard her be so manipulative.  He was sure it wouldn’t be obvious to those who didn’t know her, but her time with Rumpelstiltskin had merely honed her skills as a linguist.           

          The good friar was quick to reassure her.  “M’lady, marriage is never a mistake between two people who love one another … of course not.  It is however, my agency to make absolutely certain neither of you have any impediments which will make me question – “

          “There are none,” the Dark One growled from the open doorway leading into the Great Hall.  “You aren’t trying to dissuade,” he drew the word out as his eyes narrowed, “my darling girl from becoming my wife now, are you?”

          “Er … um … n-no, not if this is truly her w-wish.”

          Belle hid a smile behind her hand, knowing the Dark One wouldn’t let it go if he thought something he wanted was threatened.  It was then she noticed the two little blurs of color hovering out in the corridor.  “Oh, my,” she murmured.  She inched closer, her jaw tightening as she stared at the two fairies.  “And just how did you two little gnats gain entrance to our home, hmm?  The wards should have kept you out.”

          “Rumpelstiltskin asked us in, m’lady,” the little gold fairy quickly provided.

          “T-Tinkerbell sent us … to … to help.”  Belle’s gaze swung to the pink nuisance hovering slightly behind her companion.  “F-For the spell.” The poor thing looked terrified.

          “It’s not nice to threaten my lady,” Rumpelstiltskin tittered, causing Belle to turn, to ascertain for herself the monk was still in good health.  She could practically taste his displeasure in the air, though not any real anger.  He was merely toying with the little man.

          “Land blessed with fairy magic,” she murmured to herself.  “Very well.  If Rum brought you into the castle, I suppose he believes you to be honest about your purpose here.”  She eyed them both, wondering why Tinkerbell would have sent one unable to control her fear of the Dark One.

          The hatter’s gaze ping-ponged between Rumpelstiltskin terrorizing the friar and Belle’s wary suspicion of the fairies.  He figured it was safer in the princess’s camp.  “Belle?” he asked, smiling gently at the two tiny women hovering in the air.  “It might be a good idea for you to talk Rum down, don’t you think?”

          The smile which graced Belle’s lips was playful as she batted her lashes innocently at him.  He didn’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity of the gesture or groan in anticipation of what mischief she was contemplating.  Her only tell was the icy glint in her eyes as they hardened into steel blue shards.  “Rumpel is just fine, Jefferson.”  She inched closer to the fairies, dropping her voice almost an entire register.  “You see … “ She spoke softly yet succinctly to them.  “ … when he blusters, as he’s doing now with the good friar … that’s really all it is.  He’s quite the imp, isn’t he?”

          “I heard that, dearest!”

          Belle giggled, her gaze softening exponentially as it met his.  She shrugged as he returned to answering the clergyman’s questions about the Dark One’s intentions towards her.  “He’s just amusing himself.  We all know he’ll get what he wants in the end … what we _both_ want.  If he were truly angry …” Again, she turned to her guests.  “The air would cool and the shadows would encroach.  Fear would freeze the blood in your veins and you would know … you would _know_ the darkness was coming for you.”

          Rumpelstiltskin’s voice trailed away, gaping in surprise at his girl.  “Belle … “ he murmured huskily.  The demon was fighting to get free, to praise her for her daring, to drag her off to show his appreciation for all that she was.

          “Belle!” The hatter was equally astonished.  He smiled apologetically at the fairies.  “Sorry … she um … she’s always been a sucker for a good horror story … has an entire library full of them, and – “

          Her betrothed slipped an arm about her waist, and pulled her into his side.  He didn’t excuse them, but simply transported them to her library where the next potion ingredient needed to be added to the bubbling cauldron.  Once he’d completed his task, he cupped her face in his hand, searching her serene features for … what, he wasn’t sure.  “Sweetheart, what was that?  Why would you … “ His face screwed up into a grimace as he released her, one green gold hand tapping against his chest.  “Did I … was this because of _me?”_

          Her own face eased into a sympathetic smile.  “Of course not, Rumpel.  Your curse cannot touch me in that way, nor would you allow it.  Turning to the darkness is a conscious choice.”  She glanced away sheepishly, biting her lip.  “I just wanted to spook them a bit.  Their kind has brought you immeasurable pain, that wasp who leads them, most of all.”

          He huffed out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face in vexation.  “You did that for me?”

          “Maybe … a little for me too,” she admitted in all honesty.  “I do so hate it when someone mistreats you.”

          Rumpelstiltskin dropped down onto the stool at his workbench, his head spinning much like his wheel.  Why … how … she could ever love him as she did.  “I’ve lived for centuries, Belle.  Decade upon decade, and I’ve seen more of the world than _anyone_.  The darkness, the evil, the power … riding my soul.  True love was a myth, a puzzle for me to solve, to bottle just like any other potion.  I never thought it would be possible to find it for myself … to find you.”

          “Rumpel – “

          “I don’t want … “ he cut her off.  “I don’t want who I am to smother your light, Belle.”

          She wrapped her arms about him, kissing him sweetly as her fingers coiled through his hair.  “Taunting a few fairies isn’t going to turn me into a mass murderer, Rumpel.  Think about it … everyone has a little darkness within them.  It’s human nature.  If someone hurts you or someone you love, it’s only natural to want a little retribution.”  She sighed wearily.  “I just don’t want them to come in here with the same attitude as Rhuel Ghorm would. They should have proper respect for you.”

          He shook himself, straightening his shoulders.  It would take him time to truly appreciate the way she had of defending him, still unable to believe he was worth fighting for.  But he wouldn’t give up, not as long as she remained by his side, not as long as they found his son.  They _could_ be a family. They _could_ have their happy ending.  “I suppose we should get back to the friar’s interview now, yeah?”

          “Indeed.”  Her tinkling laughter filled the room as she took his proffered arm.  “We’re getting married today!”

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle fiddled with the ring on his finger as she leaned back in his embrace, his arms wrapped loosely over her waist.  It was still hard to believe she was finally his wife.  A simple ceremony with their friend and two jittery little fairies to witness it, and she’d joined her life to his.  The only thing which would make the day better would be when they stepped through the portal and into the land where they’d find his son.  She hummed happily and tilted her face up to kiss the pulse point beneath his jaw.

          “You’re going to have to get packed after we take care of this little problem,” he whispered, turning his head to meet her lips with his.  Would he ever tire of kissing her? He doubted it.

          She frowned as she looked down at the rose sitting so innocently in the bronze vase.  “We wouldn’t have this little problem if you wouldn’t let your jealousy cloud your judgement.”

          “Pfft!” Rumpelstiltskin scoffed, “He was coming to take what was mine, and you _know_ how I just _love_ to share.”  He released her to stir the bubbling mess inside the cauldron before perching upon his stool.  “I could just send him back to your father without any need for you to speak to him.”

          Belle sighed.  “It wouldn’t be right, Rum.”

          His lip curled in disgust as he glared at the rose.  He was giving in to her wishes on the matter, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.  With a wave of his elegant hand, the knight transfigured back into himself … albeit without his prized sword which he’d been brandishing at the time of his unfortunate transformation.  No need for Belle to get caught between them and get hurt.

          “Hello, Gaston,” she said simply, taking a step back from the anger clearly written on his face.

          “Belle!  I’ve come to bring you home.”  He frowned at the unfamiliar room, clearly remembering himself at the front door, and having no recollection of how he’d ended up in what appeared to be a library.  He held out his hand to her, expecting her to take it and flee with him.

          She sighed, clasping her hands before her and smiling gently.  She was happy he had no memory of spending time as a rose.  “I _am_ home, Gaston.  But I would like you to deliver a message to my father upon your return to Avonlea.”

          “This isn’t your home, Belle.  This is your prison, and … “ He glared at Rumpelstiltskin over her shoulder, “and that beast is your jailer.”

          “Guess again, dearie!” the mage chortled.

          “Rumpel,” she admonished with a chuckle of her own.  “No, Gaston, that beast – as you say – is my husband.”

          “You can’t be serious!”

          “Oh, but she is,” Rumpelstiltskin said, slipping his arms about her waist as he came to stand at her back in a show of support and protection.  Surely the knight wasn’t stupid enough to try to touch her.  The man looked as if he were about to have a complete breakdown.

          Gaston’s face twisted into a look of utter disgust as he glared down at her.  “How could you give yourself to a monster like him?”

          Which completely set her off.  The sorcerer could feel the tension and anger radiating from her every pore, which only fed the dark entity sharing his body.

          “You seem to forget, Gaston … I know who you really are.  I’ve seen the evil you’re capable of, and I’m not going to be swayed into thinking otherwise.”  She pulled a folded missive from the pocket of her gown and held it out to him.  “Just please see that my father gets this.”

          Before he could utter a protest, the knight was gone, sent home to Avonlea as per Belle’s request.  As much as he hated himself for his small bit of insecurity, he couldn’t stop himself from asking.  “What did you have to say to your father, dearest?”

          “Goodbye,” she replied, a sad smile forming on her lips.  “I told him I was happy and loved and that he shouldn’t worry about me.  I just felt I needed to tell him before we left.”

          Rumpelstiltskin pressed his lips to her brow and nodded.  He knew the king wasn’t worthy of his precious daughter, nor any words of comfort she might have for him, but this would give her the closure she needed.  He groaned inwardly as a thought occurred to him.  “Would it be better to see him before we leave?”

          Belle bit down on her lower lip as she studied the man she’d married.  “You would take me to him, wouldn’t you?” she asked in a breathless whisper, awed by his selflessness.  She could see the answer there in his fathomless amber eyes.  She shook her head as he nodded.  “No, my husband, I don’t need to see him before we leave.  Avonlea, and my life there, are my past.  _You_ are my future, and I don’t want to waste another second with our beginning.”

          He didn’t hesitate to lean into her and meet her lips as she brushed hers against the corner of his mouth, but he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted … no matter how much he wanted it.  “Then you’d best get packing.”

 

*.*.*

 

          In the end, Belle had decided not to pack anything … well, except for an insane amount of gold.  She’d convinced Jefferson to tote one crate of gold thread after another up to the library where she’d then had Rumpelstiltskin transfigure it all into gold coins.  The reticule he’d given her with its unending bottom, could more than accommodate it all.  If they really were going off to a land with unexpected dangers and no knowledge of what they’d encounter, at least they wouldn’t be poor.  She didn’t think her former spinner would need poverty added to his already troubled mind.  He’d quickly agreed.

          Now, as they stood just outside of the circle, waiting for Rumpelstiltskin to cast the spell, she was calm.  She trusted him more than any other living soul, and had every faith he’d see them safely to the other side.  Her husband – on the other hand – was brimming with nerves.  “It will be fine, Rum,” she whispered as he fiddled with the vial of noxious blue liquid in his hands.

          “You don’t know that,” he returned in a hiss, trying to keep the panic from his voice.  “I’m still not so sure this isn’t some clever ruse to get rid of me, and I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

          “Have faith, Rumpel,” Jefferson said, a wicked gleam in his liquid gaze.  He hauled Belle away from the mage and swept her up into a strangling embrace.  “I’m going to miss the two of you so much.”  He choked on a sob as he drew back to kiss her brow.

          Rumpelstiltskin glared at him as he let Belle go.  He’d never approved of the hatter being so liberal with his affection towards her.  His eyes narrowed menacingly as Jefferson reached for him.  He held up a hand already glowing with a fine crimson mist.  “If you so much even _think_ of hugging me … I will end you.”

          Jefferson nodded sheepishly and took a step back.  “You don’t have to be such an ass, Rumpel.”  He glanced between his two friends.  “This is just all so emotional.”

          Belle hid a grin behind her hand and shot her husband a telling look.  Finally, the Dark One reluctantly extended his hand to his friend.  The hatter glanced once more between them and caught them both in his embrace, nearly choking the life from them.  Then he ran for the gate.

          “Hellfire and damnation!”

          Belle giggled as Rumpelstiltskin cursed.  “He means well, darling.”

          The Dark One turned back to the circle of fairy blessed land and took a deep breath, staring down at the vial in his hands.  Belle slipped her hand into one of his and twined their fingers, letting him know she was ready whenever he was.  His heart pounded, his blood racing, fear at the back of his tongue … _what if?_   He threw it, drawing strength from his wife.

          They stepped into the circle, a faint blue mist rising from the grass to wrap around their ankles.  He could hear her unsteady breath next to him as she tried to hide her excitement, and he tightened his hand over hers.  It was time.  He could feel the magic gaining in strength … only one thing left.  With his free hand, he cradled her cheek, losing himself in the love shining in her cerulean gaze.  She was his world, his hope, his future … his everything.  Slowly – savoring the moment for what it was, his infinite destiny – he lowered his lips to hers.  He gasped as the pure white magic of true love swept over them, and then the world fell away.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin opened his eyes and groaned at the unfamiliar sight above him.  It took him a moment to realize he was lying under the moonlit sky.  He gained a bit more clarity when a lump of snow fell from the branches above him and landed on his face.  Sitting up, he rubbed the offending substance away and gasped.  This wasn’t the grounds of the Dark Castle.  He was in a park of some kind, with benches and a fountain.  He’d made it … _they’d_ …

          “Belle!” he cried, realizing her hand wasn’t safely nestled within his own any longer.  He pushed himself to his knees, his head screaming with a dull pounding, panic rising in his chest.  “Belle!”  It was growing harder to breathe, yet he had to find the strength to find her.  “Belle!”  He was becoming frantic, despair evident in his voice.  How had he lost her?  No!  He couldn’t accept it!  The fates wouldn’t be so cruel as to grant him such love only to snatch it away … would they?

          He collapsed back into the snow, tears slowly making their way over his ashen cheeks.  “Belle … “ his voice now no more than a whisper as he gave into the sorrow of her loss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: omg are y’all ready to kill me yet? I’m so sorry I haven’t update in … forever! The show like killed all my feels, but I didn’t want y’all to think I’d abandoned you completely. So, hope you all enjoyed!! Thanks so much for reading!


	18. Found

 

          The breath caught and stuttered in his throat, causing him to choke as a soft hand brushed the hair back away from his eyes.  _Her_ hand, so soft, gentle.  _Her_ touch, one he’d never thought to feel again.  “Belle!”

          “Rum, shh, what’s wrong?” she asked, slipping her arm around his shoulders to help him into a sitting position in the cold snow.  Her teeth chattered, and she pressed against his side to share in his warmth.

          “Where the hell were you!?” he bellowed.

          “I beg your pardon?” she asked, arching a brow at him.  Belle kept her voice low, knowing it would do neither of them any good to get into an argument when they were exposed in a foreign land.

          “Gods,” he groaned, pulling her into the circle of his arms.  “I thought I’d lost you!  I couldn’t find you, and -”

          Belle pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off the pressure behind her eyes from growing worse.  Her head was filled with things she couldn’t comprehend and it was giving her a monstrous headache.  “My head is killing me.  I didn’t think you’d care for me to be sick in your lap, so I looked for a handy bush.  I’m sorry you were worried.”

          “Portals are tricky … I could have easily lost you in the void.”

          “But you didn’t!”  She tried to reassure him, and leaned in to kiss him softly.  “It will take more than a bit of magic to pry me from your side, Rum.”

          Rumpelstiltskin heaved himself to his feet, dragging her up with him.  He was reluctant to let her go for even a moment after the desolation which had crept through him when he’d thought he’d lost her.  His own head swam with knowledge of the new world, causing it to pound painfully.  Some of it was hard for him to believe, but it wasn’t the first time he’d encountered such.  “We need to find shelter.  It’s too cold out here and I don’t want you to fall ill,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow.  He cursed, stumbling, his old wound refusing to allow him a moment’s respite.

          Belle caught him, her grip on his arm tightening as she reached for the charmed reticule tied securely about her wrist.  “Hold on, love.  I know I have it here somewhere.”

          He groaned.  “Belle, please tell me you didn’t bring my walking staff.”

          “Nope,” she grinned.  “Jefferson left you a parting gift.”  From within the deep recesses of her bag, she withdrew an elegant ebony cane, it’s curved handle engraved with ancient runes gleaming in the moonlight.  His features softened exponentially as he took it from her and leaned his weight upon it.  “He knew you’d need it.  He said he didn’t want anything slowing you down in your search for Bae.”

          “Why didn’t he give it to me himself?”

          She chuckled.  “Because he didn’t want you to take it the wrong way.  And don’t try to argue, Rumpel.  You know you would have.”

          He tugged gently on her gloved hand, leading her away from the fountain, grumbling under his breath.  “Come on, dearest.  Let’s go exploring.”

 

*.*.*

 

          “Is there a Ren Faire in town or something?” the bored looking desk clerk inquired, his gaze swinging between Rumpelstiltskin and his wife.  “Wicked getups, by the way.” 

          “Rum, what’s a Ren Faire?” Belle whispered to her husband, a frown creasing her brow when her new wealth of knowledge implanted from the spell didn’t provide her with answers.  She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the clerk’s scrutiny and she didn’t like it.

          “No idea, dearest.”

          The young man leaned forward, an unruly lock of dark blonde hair falling over his brow as he gaped at them.  “Haven’t you ever heard of a Renaissance Faire?  We have them here two or three times a year.  It’s where people dress up … kinda like you both in period costumes, and –“

          “Chester!”

          The boy quailed as another man stepped up to his side, a disapproving air surrounding him.  “Are you harassing the guests again?”

          Belle pasted a charming smile to her lips and rested one bejeweled hand on the desk.  “No, he was simply telling us about a fair your town holds.  No harm done,” she said sweetly.  To look at the thundercloud of irritation on Rumpelstiltskin’s set features lent lie to her claim, however.

          The hotel manager’s lips turned up into a smarmy smile as he looked down on her.  “Is there another convention in town?  Cosplaying and whatnot?”

          The former sorcerer banged a hand on the desk, leaning over and baring his teeth.  “Will the two of you be able to provide us with a room, or not?” he gritted out.  He was swiftly losing patience with the two, and he especially didn’t like how the manager seemed to be undressing Belle with his beady little eyes.  If he still had his magic, the man would be wriggling around in his own slime trail by now.

          Belle rummaged in her bag and brought out a dozen or so gold coins, laying them out on the counter while the manager’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.  “For the week,” she added.  She turned to Rumpelstiltskin for his approval and he nodded.  They should be able to acquire a more permanent residence by then.

          “That should cover the cost of the room as well as any services by your staff we might need, correct?” he asked, his voice filled with quiet menace, daring the two to disagree.

          The manager nodded, avarice dripping from his expression.  “Of course, Mr. –“

          “Gold,” Rumpelstiltskin provided, his lips quirking at the newfound respect in the man’s tone.  “Mr. and Mrs. Rum Gold.”

         

*.*.*

 

**Two Months later …**

Belle glanced idly at her husband where they shared the back seat of the town car, a furrow carving a deep groove between her brows.  She briefly met Dove’s eyes in the rearview mirror and shook her head.  Really, she didn’t know what she would have done without the man.  It had almost been like fate had stepped in to intervene on their behalf when he’d literally fallen into their path outside of a sweet shop on twenty-seventh.  Fired from his job for giving out some of the morning’s pastries to a few of the homeless children in the area.  Apparently, he didn’t care if it cut into the shop owner’s profits.  He wasn’t about to let the youths go hungry if he could help it.  Dove’s kindness had impressed Rumpelstiltskin, and she knew he’d want someone to help Baelfire in just such a manner if their boy was in need and hungry.  The man’s sheer size alone was enough to intimidate the masses, but he was the former dark one.  Nothing intimidated him … aside from his wife’s temper.

          Dove – now firmly ensconced in the apartment over the garage of the house Rumpelstiltskin had purchased – had the comfortable job of caretaker, chauffer, handyman, and all around general go to man.  He was proving to be invaluable as the Golds navigated their way through the land without magic and acclimated themselves into their new life.  Yet they hadn’t been able to locate Rumpelstiltskin’s son, no matter how hard they searched.  The coin Tinkerbell had given him hadn’t glowed once.

          Then why were they here?  Why had the spell brought them to Boston of all places?  Belle had done her research, not that much was needed with the knowledge provided with the spell, and this was just one city amongst many.  Why this one?  She dragged her gaze from Dove’s questioning look in the mirror and looked down at the map spread between her and her husband on the back seat.  “Where are you going to search today, Rum?” she asked.

          Rumpelstiltskin sighed.  “I don’t know,” he murmured, perusing the map.  He pointed to the sections he and Dove had already searched.  “Perhaps this area around Lexington.  I believe we should be back fairly early.”  He mustered up a smile for her.  She’d been such a great source of comfort through every disappointment, his light in the darkness as he fell into despair of never finding his son.  How he’d love to get his hands on Regina and that blasted fairy for the false hope they’d built up in him.  He’d come to realize it was simply a ploy to rid the Enchanted Forest of his brand of evil.  May they rot!

          The car came to a stop outside the sixth street shelter in Arlington.  Belle had thought it a good idea to check them all throughout the city and surrounding areas.  If Bae was here, surely someone would have seen him.  At least that’s how she’d started out.  Her soft heart soon had her wanting to help the needy in the area, and she’d volunteered to work three days a week at the shelter.

          “It will happen … sooner or later, we’ll find him,” she assured him, her hand rising to cup his cheek as she leaned in for a kiss.  “Be safe.”

          “I will, dearest.  Shall I send the car for you at four?”

          Belle patted Dove on the shoulder, her eyes once again finding his in the mirror.  He smiled, clearly intercepting her worry.  She knew she could depend on the man for her husband’s safety.  He wouldn’t let him go off half-cocked.

          “Yes … four,” she murmured distractedly, unable to shake the feelings of anxiety twisting in her gut.  “And I have my phone in case –“

          “In case we find him,” Rumpel finished for her.  He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the pressure behind his eyes before meeting her worried gaze.  “Don’t work too hard today, sweetheart.”

          She released him reluctantly and got out of the car, remaining where she was until the town car pulled out of sight, the knots in her belly worsening the farther away he traveled.  It wasn’t usually so bad, the fear, but today …

          Belle did her best to put aside the nervous fluttering in her stomach, and pulled open the door to the shabby looking shelter which offered hope to so many in the area.  She looked around at the worn faces staring back at her, some wary, some welcoming, and let her lips curl into a warm smile.  The time since they’d arrived in the land without magic hadn’t been easy, especially for her husband as he tried so hard to adapt to the loss of his power.  She realized – not for the first time – just how fortunate they’d been.

          They had a home, wealth – and most importantly – each other.  Baelfire was the only missing piece to their happy ending … or their happy beginning as she liked to think of it.  She didn’t want to give into her husband’s theory that it was all some diabolical plot to banish him from the Enchanted Forest.  Belle sighed and hung her coat by the door, smoothing her hand along the stylish black pencil skirt she wore.  She needed to focus on her volunteer work instead of her own problems. 

          She was just tying an apron about her trim waist when Marla stuck her head through the door leading into the kitchen.  “Hey, Belle!  You’re early today,” the woman chirped happily in greeting.  In her fifties, her silver hair cut in a pixie-style and who acted far younger than her years, Marla had opened the shelter twenty years before when her husband had died in an accident and left her a wealthy widow.  It was her way of giving back, and she never had anything but a smile and a shoulder for any in need.

          “Yeah,” Belle returned the woman’s hug in greeting.  “Rum had an appointment this morning and I thought I’d ride in with him.  How’re things here?”

          “Oh, not bad.  Paul already checked the supplies we received from the food bank, and Cindy burnt the carrot mash I was planning as a side dish for the lunch crowd, but … “

          Belle chuckled.  “In other words, just another normal day here.”

          “Oh yeah.”  The woman sighed.  “Look,” she said, urging Belle to look out over the large dining room with its folding tables and metal chairs.  “We’ve got a few new visitors today.  Why don’t you see if you can get them to fill out a card for our records?  Some might even want to stay in the dorms upstairs if they’ve nowhere else to go.  It’s so cold, and the winter hasn’t even kicked in fully yet.”

          Belle’s eyes narrowed as she took in the rag-tag group of teenagers chatting amiably at one of the tables, shaking her head.  It was good the group could find something to be cheerful about under such unhappy circumstances.  “I’ll take care of it, and then I’ll come help you in here,” she told Marla.

          The older woman smiled and disappeared through the door, already calling for her helpers.  Belle hurried down the hall to the office to find the visitor’s cards and some pens before returning to the dining hall.  It was then she noticed the boy sitting off to the side, closest to the window, his brow pressed against the cold glass.  The sadness wringing his eyes made her heart hurt.  She approached the group huddled around the table and began passing out the cards.

          “Hello, my name is Belle.  I volunteer here at the shelter.  I’d like you each to fill out one of these cards as best as you are able, and we’ll see about getting you a hot meal and a warm bed,” she said, going through the same spiel Marla had taught her.

          “Why’s we gotta fill it out?  What if I don’t want to,” one older boy grumbled, his eyes dark and brooding.

          “It helps us keep track for Ms. Marla’s records.  Sometimes, she is able to find little odd jobs for our more regular visitors.  It gives them a chance to get back on their feet.”

          A little blonde girl, no more than thirteen if Belle had to guess, turned hopeful eyes up at her.  “She’s not going to send us back, is she?”

          “We don’t want no trouble,” an older brunette piped up.  “But we ain’t going back home.”

          Belle rested a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulders.  “We’ll do everything we can to help you without betraying your trust.  You don’t even have to use your real name if you’re not comfortable.”

          That seemed to motivate the group to fill out their cards, and the only sound to come from them was the scratching of their pens on paper.  She called out to Cindy to fetch them all some hot chocolate, and moved off to sit next to the lonely boy at the window.

          “Hi,” she said softly, taking a seat across from him.  She took two cups of the steaming chocolate off the tray when Cindy passed and pushed one in his direction.  “I’m Belle.”

          The boy with his unruly mop of dark brown curls, turned glassy eyes in her direction and gave her a stiff nod.  “I heard … when you introduced yourself to the others.”

          She tilted her head to the side, studying him carefully.  “Why are you sitting over here all by yourself instead of with your friends?”

          He rubbed at his nose with the back of his sleeve and gave a loud sniff.  “They’re not my friends.  I heard them talking about this place and followed them here.  Just wanted to be warm for a few minutes.  Not used to the cold anymore.”  His gaze dropped to the cup as he reached for it, wrapping his hands around the ceramic mug in search of the warmth he so craved.

          “You live in Boston and you’re not used to the cold?” she inquired, feeling there was more to this boy than what she was seeing with her eyes.  A story lingering behind the troubled sable eyes and the dark furrows marring his brow.

          “Haven’t been here but a couple days,” he provided, taking a sip of the chocolate.  A deep sigh rattled up from his chest.  “Used to live on an island.  When I was a kid, though … my old village, it snowed there a lot.”

          The hairs stood up on the back of her neck at the use of that term for his home.  She gave him a hard look, taking in his features and felt herself tremble.  It couldn’t be him … not like this … for him to just stumble upon her when Rumpelstiltskin spent every day out on the streets looking for him.  “What’s your name?” she barely breathed.

          A violent cough wracked his thin frame.  “N-Neal,” he replied.

          Her eyes widened as she realized he was ill, but she couldn’t help the disappointment she felt over his name.  “That your real name?” she couldn’t help but ask.

          “You told them they didn’t have to use their real names,” he accused, his brow creasing in worry.

          “Of course not.”  She reached over the table and patted his hand, her own cup completely forgotten.  “But I can’t let you stay here if you’re ill.  Come with me, and I’ll take you to the clinic to have you checked over.  They’ll be able to help you with that cough.”

          His dark eyes filled with fear, and he quickly pulled his hand from her grasp.  “No!  Don’t need no doctoring.”

          Belle’s heart ached for him.  He was just a child with no one to help him.  “Darling, I wouldn’t leave you there.  I just think you need a checkup.  I’ll stay with you the entire time, and if you like, when they’re done, we’ll come right back here.”

          “Y-You’ll let me stay here?”

          “Yes.  It’s what we do.”

          Belle hurried to get her coat and tell Marla what she’d be doing for the rest of the afternoon, promising to be back later.  Her phone weighed heavily in her pocket, knowing she should call Rumpelstiltskin to let him know she was leaving and would possibly not be at the shelter when Dove came to fetch her at four.  He’d be furious if he thought she was putting herself in danger, and the neighborhood where the shelter was located wasn’t the best.

          Once she and the boy settled comfortably in a cab, she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer.  “Excuse me just for a moment, Neal.  I need to let my husband know where I’ll be.”  He nodded and turned his gaze to the window while she dialed.

          He answered on the second ring.  “Hello, dearest.  Are you done for the day already?”

          Belle smiled at the sound of his voice.  “No, I’m not.  One of our visitors is ill and I’m bringing him to the clinic to have him checked out.  I wanted to let you know where I’d be.”

          “Ill?  You’re not going to drag home some kind of contagion are you?  You have to be careful, Belle,” he scolded gently.  He wouldn’t have her putting herself at risk for some homeless waif.

          “Stop being so uncharitable, Rum darling.”

          “Pfft!” he scoffed.

          “If you don’t hear from me by four, could you come for me at the clinic?” she asked, her sweet tone never faltering.  You could catch more flies with honey, after all.

          “As you wish.  Should I wear a mask?” he snarked.

          “I have a feeling you’re going to become better acquainted with the sofa if you don’t stop.”

          He grumbled incoherently over the phone.

          “Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

          “Fine!” he snapped.  “You have no sense of humor as of late.”

          “Goodbye, darling.”

          She slipped the phone back into her pocket to find the boy’s eyes on her.  “I’m not causing problems for you, am I?” he asked, frowning.

          “No, my husband just likes to be difficult at times.  Especially when he’s worried about something.”

          “What’s he worried about?” Neal asked, wiping at his watery eyes.

          Belle shot him a sad smile and patted his knee.  “His son is lost, and he’s been searching for him for a very long time.  We moved here recently in hopes of finding him.”

          Before he could answer, they pulled up before the clinic and she leaned forward to pay the driver.  Snow was beginning to fall as they exited the cab and quickly made their way to the warmth which awaited them inside the old brownstone.  She urged the boy into a seat and went to check him in, taking the clipboard from the receptionist to fill out his paperwork.

          Belle held out the clipboard to him as she sat beside him.  “You want to have a go at this? Or would you rather I fill it out?”

          He gave her a beseeching look, which so reminded her of Rumpelstiltskin when he wanted something really badly, she forgot to breathe.  That nagging feeling was back, eating away at her stomach. 

          “Would you do it, please?” he asked.

          “Hmm … alright.”  She set the clipboard in her lap, pen poised.  “So are we going to be using your real name … or your fake name?”

          The boy blushed and ducked his head, his chin resting against his chest as he struggled with his conscience as to whether or not he should trust her.  She waited patiently through his indecision.  “I don’t like to use my real name.  It’s not very common here.”

          “I’m sure it’s fine, dear.”

          He looked up at her, his gaze locked with hers as he wondered why she would want to help him, why she was so understanding and sweet and all the things his mother hadn’t been.  He wanted so badly to trust her, to have someone look at him without some form of judgement in her gaze.  It hadn’t been easy since he’d arrived, and he’d been met with nothing but scorn for his ragged appearance.  But there was just something about Belle which made him want to trust her.  “It’s … Baelfire.  And before you ask, no … I don’t have a last name.  It’s just Baelfire.”

          The pen trembled in her hand, her heartrate sped up and she found it difficult to catch a stuttering breath.  Her mind was screaming, and the myriad of conflicted thoughts left her light-headed.  She was beginning to wonder if maybe _she_ was going to have to see the doctor when this was all over.  He coughed again, startling her out of her fugue.  She reached over and rubbed his back … her _stepson’s_ back … and tsked soothingly.  “It’ll be alright, darling,” she crooned gently.  “We can use your other name and I’ll just tack my last name on the end.”  Why not, she mused.  He was her family after all.  She was sure Rumpelstiltskin wouldn’t have any misgivings about footing the bill for the boy’s medical treatment.

          He offered her a wan smile, his eyes drooping with weariness.  She filled out as much of the forms as she could and then turned them in to the receptionist.  Yet, now that the task was complete, she was at a loss as to what to do next.  Baelfire seemed to relax as he watched her pace about the waiting room.  There was something almost calming in the _tap tap tap_ of her heels on the worn linoleum.

          When he went into another fit of coughing, she dug in her bag for change to buy him a bottle of orange juice from the vending machine.  The wait was taking its toll on her.  She really wanted the doctor to see him before she called for her husband.  If he arrived too early, he would likely panic to see his boy ill and hover belligerently at the doctor’s elbow with all manner of threats to his well-being if he didn’t cure his son immediately.  It was already going to be an emotional confrontation without unnecessary violence.

          “Neal Gold,” the nurse called as she came to the door leading to the exam rooms.  “The doctor will see you now, dear.”

          “Well, it’s about time,” Belle grumbled under her breath so only he would hear.  She glared at the nurse when the woman moved to block her path.  “Is there a problem?”

          “I’m sure he doesn’t need you to come back and hold his hand,” the nurse said in a sickly sweet voice.  “He looks like a big boy to me.”

          Baelfire grabbed Belle’s hand and held on tight.  “No, I want my mom to come back with me,” he lied.  “I don’t like doctors and I’d feel better if she were with me.”

          The nurse sighed and rolled her eyes, but didn’t protest further as she led them into one of the rooms.  Belle gnashed her teeth, but kept her calm.  She had encountered the woman several times since she’d been volunteering, and she just couldn’t bring herself to like her.  The only good thing she could say was that she was efficient and thorough.  Soon enough, she was taking Baelfire’s vitals and getting him into a paper gown so the doctor could have a look at him.

          Belle’s phone vibrated in her pocket as the nurse stepped out, leaving her and Baelfire alone.  She glanced down and paled.  Crap!  It was a text …

          _Sweetheart, we haven’t turned up anything here.  Are you nearly done at the clinic?_

          **Nearly :/**

_What’s with the face?_

**How soon until you’re able to get here?**   How long would she be able to stall him, she wondered.

_Why?  What’s wrong?  Did something happen?_

          Damnit, she fumed.  This is exactly what she’d been afraid of.  **Rumpel, I’m fine.  Just … you don’t have to wait until four is all.**

_Twenty minutes Dove says._

          **Ask for me at the desk and I’ll come out to meet you.  *hugs***

She’d just dropped the phone back into her pocket when it buzzed again.

          _Are you certain nothing’s wrong, dearest?_

          **I’m sure.  Be safe and I’ll see you soon.**

“That your husband?” Baelfire asked as he fidgeted with one of the ties on the side of his gown.

          Belle grinned sheepishly, hating herself for keeping such monumental news from the both of them, but giddy at the same time that their search was finally over.  “Yes, he’s a bit of a worrier, but I think you’d like him … a lot.”

          A knock on the door and the doctor poked his head in.  “How are we doing today?  Oh, hello, Mrs. Gold.  Another one from the shelter?”

          “Well it is the cold and flu season, Dr. Reynolds.  Can’t be too careful.”

          Belle sat in the chair and listened attentively as the doctor asked the boy questions – which Bae evaded with aplomb his father would’ve been proud of – and checked him over with various instruments.  Finally, Reynolds diagnosed a simple cold which could be treated with antibiotics and a strong cough suppressant.  She was able to breathe a sigh of relief as she took the prescriptions from him and nodded at Bae to get dressed.  She couldn’t wait to take him shopping for some decent attire.  But first she was going to have a very emotional former Dark One on her hands.

          “Alright, Bae, I’ll just step out so you can get dressed, and then we’ll wait for my husband out front.”

          The boy stared at her, a puzzled frown causing a furrow between his dark brows.  “You called me Bae,” he whispered.  “No one but my papa ever called me that before.”

          Belle bit her lip, inwardly cursing the slip.  “Really?  I thought it fitting.”

          He relaxed and reached for his jeans.

          Another knock and that snotty nurse was poking her head through the door to sneer at Belle.  “Your husband is here, Mrs. Gold.  I asked him to have a seat in the waiting room.”  She gave an imperious sniff.  “I’m not your errand girl, y’know.”

          “Of course not, dear.  If you were I’d have fired you long ago,” Mrs. Gold snarked.  With a satisfied smirk curling her lips, she linked her arm with Baelfire’s and set off down the hall.

          Before she could reach the door, her phone rang.  He had given up on texting and was now calling.  Without breaking stride, she answered, then had to hold the device away from her ear to muffle the shrieking coming out of the other end.

          “Belle!  The coin is burning a hole in my bloody pocket!”

          She laughed nervously.  “Is it now?”

          “You need to hurry, Belle.  If he’s close –“

          “Oh, darling, you don’t know just how close,” she mumbled.  “But first I want you to meet someone.”

          “Belle!  If he’s in the area, we don’t have time for pleasantries with your poverty stricken kids,” he hissed.

          “Rum, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”  She slid her finger over the end call button and dropped it into her pocket.  She further ignored it as it chirped to life again.

          “Is everything ok?” Baelfire asked, his sable eyes filled with concern.

          Belle fidgeted with the frayed sleeve of his coat.  Her heart thumped erratically against her ribs the closer she got to the door.  “My husband … well, he can let his emotions carry him away at times, but don’t worry.  Everything will be just fine.  Just please, Bae … please have an open mind when you meet him.  Promise you’re not going to run off or anything.”  She felt awful, making him give his word, but it couldn’t be helped.  They’d searched nearly every moment since they’d arrived and it was wearing on Rumpel.  This needed to be resolved so they could move forward.

          Baelfire nodded, smiling down at her.  She’d already helped him more than any other person since he’d gotten there.  He didn’t want to repay her kindness with bad behavior.  His papa had taught him better than that.  “I promise.”

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin sneered at the receptionist as she eyed him nervously.  She’d offered him coffee, which he’d declined and then hadn’t spoken to her again.  Even without the Dark One reigning over his little corner of his mind, he still had the power to intimidate people.  What was taking Belle so long?  Time was of the essence.  After so many dead ends, countless nights spent at his bedroom window formulating one plan after another to design his search, the boundless patience of his wife as he struggled with his demons … now he had a reason to hope.

          He continued to pace, scowling down at the phone in his hand because his Belle was now miffed with him and wouldn’t answer his calls.  He knew he was being a – what was the word she’d taken to using? Ah, yes … a jerk – but he had every reason with the fairy coin burning a hole in his pocket.  What was she doing back there, tending to some juvenile delinquent when she could be out here helping to find his son?

          The former mage turned to make another circuit of the small waiting room and froze, his eyes glaring a hole through the door as it began to open.  “Finally,” he breathed out in a ragged whisper.  And then he took in the look on her face, completely disregarding the young man beside her.  She was pale, her eyes holding a hint of fear, and that was enough to send alarm bells screaming through his head. 

          “Papa,” the boy whispered breathlessly, transfixed as his feet halted, his knees knocking together and the color draining from his face.  “No … no, it can’t be.”

          Rumpelstiltskin’s gaze swung to him then and he felt as if he were going to fall.  He tightened his grip on his cane and stumbled forward, tears springing to his eyes as he gazed upon his son.  Three centuries and he hadn’t aged a day.  He was the same precious child he’d been when he’d fallen screaming into that green vortex of terror.  “Bae,” he choked out.

          A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, none of them good.  What if he hated him? What if he really believed him to be a coward as he’d claimed before?  But he couldn’t dwell on that now … not now when Belle was closing the distance, propelling their son forward.

          “ _He’s_ your husband?!” the boy wailed, casting bewildered eyes down at Belle.  She merely shrugged, a bright smile curling her lips as he stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around his father.  “Gods, papa!  I never thought I’d see you again.  How are you even here?”

          Rumpelstiltskin wept silently as he rested his cheek against his son’s soft curls.  “A little spell and a bit of true love, son.”

          Belle took them both by the hands, pulling them apart and placing herself between them.  “I’m sure we can talk about this later.  How about we go home?”

          “Home?” Baelfire asked.

          “We have a grand house, dearie.  You’re going to love it,” Belle beamed.  “And there will be plenty of time for you and your papa to get all caught up while I get some food and medicine into you.”

          Bae chuckled.  “You even sound like him.”

          “I’m a horrible influence on her, son.”

          “What about the curse? The Dark One?” the boy asked.

          Belle grinned at him.  “Gone, darling.  Or rather suppressed as long as we’re here.”

          Rumpelstiltskin hugged his son once more as Belle climbed into the town car and made room for the rest of her family.  “I can’t wait to hear your story, son.”  He wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye.  “I’m so sorry, Bae.”

          “Don’t matter, papa … you came for me.  You’re here now when I really needed you.”

          Baelfire climbed into the car, and Rumpelstiltskin followed.  The once upon a time mystical Dark One had achieved something no other before him could ever claim … true love and a happy ending.  There was hope and love in his future and all he could say was, “Take us home, Dove.”

 

(Finally!!) The End

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That’s all folks!! Hope you enjoyed :D

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So did you like the first part? Reviews would be amazingly lovely. I will be posting a chapter probably every other day as I’m nearly done with this fic and don’t want to torture you all by drawing it out a week at a time :D Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Also, thank you so much for supporting my work in this year’s TEAs. You guys rock!


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